A New World
by KColl2003
Summary: After the events of 'Not Fade Away', a new, mysterious player enters the game.
1. Default Chapter

**FIC: A New World (1/?)**

"The artefact has been secured?"

Agent F nodded at his leader's enquiry. "Yes sir. Your instructions were followed to the letter, they don't have a clue we've taken it."

"Excellent," his boss nodded. "In that case, it's time to put Operation 'New World' into action." The older man's gaze took in Agent F and all his companions. "One hundred thousand pounds on the heads of each Slayer. Quarter of a million sterling for the heads of Rosenberg, Giles, Wood, and Harris. Half a million for Miss Summers and either of the ensoulled vampires. Two million for Faith Martin." The massed room broke out in shocked whispers at this last bombshell. After a minute or so, their leader's cultured voice cut through the mutterings. "But the money for Miss. Martin is payable on her capture and NOT her death. I have some issues to discuss with that young lady before I have her disposed of. The person who kills her will take her place in the dungeon. Understand?"

Agent F beamed as the meeting ended. Giles, Buffy, they'd all pay for what they'd taken from him.

* * *

"Oh honey," Wood whined as he watched the heavenly sight of his girl-friend's beautifully taut butt wriggling into her black g-string. "Don't go."

"Sorry Nottingham," Faith looked over a bare shoulder and winked. "But you know it's Sunday." 

"I know," Wood hesitated. "But he's made it clear he doesn't want your help."

He regretted his words when Faith's eyes filled with hurt. "I know," the east coast native admitted before pulling her t-shirt and leather jacket on. "But I gotta try, you get?"

"I get it, but it's cold out," Wood decided to try his final gambit. "Get back in bed."

His Slayer chuckled. "Sorry lover." The Bostonian pulled her calf-skin boots on and zipped them up. "But if you get the whipped cream ready, I promise I'll be back in a hour and a half max. K?"

"K," he finally conceded.

He was rewarded with a dazzling smile and a tender kiss on his lips. "Thanks Robbie."

* * *

Faith's smile disappeared the moment she closed the door behind her and stepped into the Watcher Keep's corridor. Her life ever since Sunnydale's fall had been pretty good, the best ever in fact. Pardoned for her crimes due to the Council's influence, she'd served as the Council's roaming trouble-shooter travelling to places she'd only read about in the prison library – Argentina, Japan, India, Australia, France, Spain, and Germany. She had a man who cared about her and had reached understandings with Wes, G, and Red.

There was just one problem – Xander. B still hated her, but she didn't give a fuck about that. She had enough smarts to realise that with the older woman it came down to B hating to share either the spotlight or Fang. They'd never be friends and she was down with that.

But Xan, that was down to her. His life in Sunnydale had take a lot from him – his best friend, surrogate mother, eye, and the love of his life. But it was what she'd taken from him that still haunted her.

His innocence.

The night she'd torn his virginity from him had been bad enough, not at all the way someone's first time should be – although a hell of a lot better than her first time had been. But what worse was what had followed. The way she'd treated him that night he'd come to her, offering to help her. He'd believed what had happened between them had meant something, that they meant something, that they were friends

And how had she'd repaid his kindness and loyalty? She'd tried to strangle him. If not for Fang.... Of all the things she was grateful to her mentor for that was the biggest.

It had taken her two weeks after Sunnydale's fall, while they were recovering in San Diego, to gather the courage to try and talk to Xander. Her attempt had bombed spectacularly with the glassy-eyed former carpenter shaking off his grief for long enough to coldly tell her that 'he preferred his friendships to come without nasty rashes or painful infections'.

Despite the abuse her first effort had gained her, she'd persevered, she never had learnt when to quit, but Xander's reactions had ranged from disinterest to aggression. After two months she'd given in to Wood's pleas to give Xander some space.

But on the four times they'd returned to the newly-constructed Watchers' Keep they'd found Xander plunging ever deeper into a listless depression. He'd even been deserted by his closest friends, B & little sis had gone to Italy, Red and her girltoy to Rio, and G was too involved in resurrecting the Council to spare much time for Xander.

Not that she blamed them. B had fought for eight years and Red was still consumed with guilt over her evil phase. Seeing X the way he was now probably reminded them of the past. She understood how hard confronting the past could be.

On each return she'd tried to talk X, but had gotten precisely no-where. He wasn't abusive anymore, just non-responsive, almost as if the anger had been leeched out of him, leaving behind an empty shell. Which left her with only one course of action. "Hi Faith."

Faith glanced to the corridor opening to her right. "Rona, Vi," she nodded to the two Slayers before melting into the darkness beside them. "He leave yet?" Faith relaxed at the duo's simultaneous headshakes.

Most of the Slayers who'd fought at the Hellmouth battle had left, either returning to their families or had been assigned Watchers. But Vi and Rona had stayed, their families murdered by the Bringers, and were now the teachers of rookie Slayers as well as unofficially serving as the Xman's shadows. "Any change yet?" she whispered.

"No," Vi shook her head. "The same."

"Damn," Faith muttered. She hated this. If Xan hated her, well she didn't have to like it, but she could live with it as part of her penance. But she wanted him to be the sweet, kind man she remembered with the others. The world needed good guys like Xander. It was her experience there were all too few of them.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a door opening down the corridor. Her breath caught at the chubby figure that shambled out of the room. "Xander," she whispered. Her former boytoy was a complete mess. Unshaven and wearing clothes that looked like they hadn't been washed in a month. His remaining eye was bloodshot and he looked to have put at least twenty pounds on.

Faith felt her eyes sting with tears of frustrated anger. This wasn't right, she hadn't known Xan's ex well but she was pretty sure the former demon wouldn't want Xan to fall apart like this. "Hell of a memorial you've given her Xman," Faith whispered. Collecting herself she turned to her companions. "Let's motor."

* * *

_Jesse McNally_

_Jenny Calendar_

_Kendra Zabuto_

_Tara Maclay_

_Anya Jenkins_

_Cordelia Chase_

Xander's eyes watered as his fingers traced the etched letters of his former fiancée's name on the stone memorial. "God," his voice shook. "I miss you." He'd been coming to the stone cross Giles had set up as a memorial to those who'd fallen every Sunday since they'd relocated to England.

He and his shadows.

He didn't need to look up to know they were there. Just behind the tree to the left some two hundred paces there'd be Rona and Vi, and Faith unless he missed his guess. Watching in case some demon tried to snatch him in the early morning, he guessed.

Why the hell they couldn't take the hint he had no idea. Putting their presence to the back of his mind he continued to talk to his love.

* * *

"How goes it?"

Faith looked behind her in surprise. "G?" she whispered. "How come?"

The Council head smiled sadly. "Faith, I might have failed spectacularly to get through to Xander, but I can at least keep an eye on him." She nodded in understanding. "Have you spoken to him since your return?"

"Nah, last time was enough," Faith shrugged. "He wants to talk, he knows where I am."

The Englishman nodded. "I quite understand. One can only help someone who wants to," the Watcher's face paled and his head snapped towards the Keep. "What the bloody hell?"


	2. 2

**A New World (2/?)**

Faith looked up at the middle-aged man's anguished cry. Her blood chilled as she watched a grey projectile crash into the five storey building that served as the Council base. A half-second later she was flung to the ground as the centuries old building exploded, flinging chunks of debris into the air and flames spurting into the sky.

For a moment Faith stared up at the blazing ruin unable to believe what she was seeing. Then it hit her. "WOOD!" Her heart pounding hard enough to shatter her rib-cage, she bounded upright and charged towards the inferno. "Noooo!"

"Faith!" Giles leapt in front of her, his face haggard. She reached up to knock the Watcher aside. Her eyes widened in shock as a pain shot through her body, turning her muscles to jelly and knocking her to the muddy ground.

* * *

Rio

Willow grinned as she watched her string-bikini clad girl-friend lie on the recliner on their hotel balcony, her curvy body bathed in the night's moonlight. She'd seen the way other women and men, of course men, looked at her Slayer when they were on the beach. "I'm a lucky girl," she muttered before speaking up. "Aren't you getting dressed sweetie?"

Kennedy turned to her and smirked. "I thought it would be more fun getting undressed."

"It would," Willow admitted with a giggle. "But tickets to the ballet remember?"

"Ballet?" her girl-friend sighed before rising sinuously and striding over to her, her hips swaying seductively. "I spent the first ten years of my life being dragged to those stuffy places by my culture vulture parents. Besides," her girl-friend slowly ran her tongue over those curvy lips that Willow loved to kiss so much. "I can think of much more productive ways of passing time."

"Uh, uh, uh, no siree bob!" Willow giggled as she shook his head. "I'm wise to your tricks you hussy. Remember the opera last month? You distracted me until it was too late. But not this month, oh no."

"Damn it," Kennedy mock-scowled while all the time the Slayer's hands did interesting things with Willow's lower body. "You're wise to all my tricks."

"Well yes I am missy and let that be a less-," her voice trailed off when the brunette's gaze turned to the door. "Sweetie, what's wr-." Her mouth dropped open when the hotel room door crashed open and over a dozen vampires stormed in. Pushing her shock aside, Willow prepared to utter an incantation.

And hit a magical wall, blocking her from her power. Stunned by the presence of two familiar but much unexpected magical signatures she was helpless to prevent a vampire powering her to the ground. The last thin she heard was Kennedy's rag-filled screams. And then her attacker's fangs tore into her.

* * *

Rome

"Come on Dawn! Immortal will be here soon!"

"You kept the bathroom busy for over an hour, remember? Can slay vampires but can't manage to slay one zit? What's up with that?" her sister snapped through the bathroom door. "I've only been in here for twenty minutes."

"My boyfriend not yours," Buffy pointed out.

"You can keep him," came the reply. "You and evil guys, what's up with that?"

Buffy bit back her angry retort. "Reformed remember?"

"Whatever. Just go without me, okay?"

Buffy counted to ten before replying. "No Dawn, this trip was about us reconnecting remember?"

There was silence. "Just give me five, okay?"

"Okay," Buffy agreed. Her triumphant smile faltered when her gaze dropped to the photo on her bedside table of her, Willow, and Xander. Hands trembling, she picked the photograph up, her thumb tracing the outline of her friends' faces.

"So long," she muttered. This photo had been taken in her first year in Sunnydale. Before all the bad stuff had happened. In her mind everything had gone wrong after her first death. Faced with her own mortality something had broken inside her, starting a retreat from her own humanity that other events – Angelus, Kendra's death, Faith's betrayal, Angel leaving, her mom's death, her second death, and her dalliance with Spike had only hastened. Only now was she starting to get it all back.

And re-finding herself had involved her cutting herself form those who'd grown used to just seeing her as Buffy the Slayer and just being Buffy Summers. "But soon," she promised in a husky whisper. "Soon-."

Her head snapped towards the apartment door. "Dawn," Buffy opened her bedside table drawer and pulled out Mr. Pointy. "Get out of here," she ordered, her voice tight with fear. "Go to Giles."

"What?"

"GO!" she screamed as the door burst open and close to twenty vampires swarmed in. Buffy flung the bedside cabinet into the lead vampire's face, the impact of her attack lifting the demon off his feet and flinging him and the two vampires nearest him back through the doorway.

A doorway that they shouldn't have been able to enter through. Except....

"He sold us out." Buffy whispered as a shocking realisation hit home. The Immortal owned the lease on the place they were living at. He must have invited the vampires. Her sister, the sister she'd once died to protect, was going to die because of her lousy taste in men.

"NOOOO!" A scream on her lips, Buffy lunged forward, ducking beneath a clumsy left to plunge her stake into the nearest vampire's heart. Sensing a demonic presence behind her, Buffy launched herself into the air, allowing the demon to run under her leaping split before staking her would-be killer upon landing.

A hand grabbed her left shoulder, she reacted with an instant elbow to the throat before spinning round and staking the vampire. Out of the corner of her eye she saw another demon charging her from the right and countered with a side-kick before turning to stake the monster.

"Damn it!" A brawny arm snaked its way around her neck, forcing her to turn her attention away from her would-be attacker. Instead she slammed the back of her head into her attacker's face, crunching bone.

Grinning slightly at the vampire's protesting cry, she spun to face him. "NO!" she screamed in protest as her right high heel snapped, knocking her off balance. Before she could right herself, the vampire behind her kicked her in the back of her legs, forcing her to the ground.

The next few moments were agony, the only comfort the knowledge that she'd given Dawn a chance. And then nothing.

* * *

LA.

"Poofter, Gunn's fading fast!"

"I've got vampire hearing too Spike," Angel snapped. "I can hear his heartbeat." And his strangled gasps.

"Well then mighty leader," his grand-childe's sarcasm cut him deeper than any of his wounds. "What do we do?"

The hell of it was Angel didn't have a clue. After the battle they'd retreated to the Hyperion. He'd refurbished his hotel with money he'd embezzled from W&H to upgrade the property, including the best security and surveillance system money and David Nesbit could provide. He hadn't truly expected to live through the battle with the Circle. Now that some of them had, he was lost, drained by his injuries and an age-old weariness.

"What were they?"

He turned at Illyria's question. "You didn't recognise them?" he didn't have to ask the re-born goddess who she was referring to. During the battle, several hundred strange humanoids had appeared, cutting through the Black Thorn's hordes like a knife through butter. They hadn't been human or demon, but other than that.... Deciding they hadn't the resources to fight this new foe, they'd retreated to re-group.

"I have not encountered them in the past," the goddess' eyes narrowed and her head turned towards the door. "What is that?"

* * *

Agent F smirked down from his rooftop opposite the hotel as he watched the rocket he'd just fired crash into the building. "Bye, bye, Angel," he whispered as the establishment burst into flames. "I always told Buffy the only good vampire was a dusted one." Still chuckling he melted into the darkness.


	3. 3

**FIC: A New World (3/?)**

"What did you do to her?"

Giles remained calm in the face of Rona's angry cry and despite the raging conflagration behind him, its heat hammering down on him with a fierce intensity. Oh god, all those innocents, there had been over thirty Slayers and more than fifty Watchers and assorted support staff in the building, all ruthlessly butchered. With the distance separating them from the keep he couldn't hear anything but the cracking of the flames but in his mind, he could hear the scream of everyone in there.

It was an effort but he managed to keep his focus. "I used a taser," he raised the offending device. "I visited Dana last night," he explained. When first confronted with Dana he'd been consumed with guilt at what the Calling had done to the already troubled girl and had determined that the Council would do whatever they could do to help her. Their efforts had been in vain and whenever he visited her he'd been forced to arm himself with a taser for his own protection as he refused to have the insane Slayer strait-jacketed. He hated having to carry the weapon, but the girl recognised him from visions of Buffy's past and would cling onto him almost as if seeking protection. She'd never attacked him or any of the Scoobies, but she had attacked others, and so he insisted that all of them be armed when they visited her. Fortunately he'd neglected to remove the weapon from his jacket after last night's visit otherwise Faith would have torn him apart in her futile eagerness to get to Wood.

"Did you have to stun her?" Rona snapped.

"Well no my dear," he snarled. "Maybe I could have talked her down, what do you think?"

The African-American Slayer's eyes flashed and her mouth opened but in a second Vi was between them. "Calm down both of you!" the red-head ordered before turning to him, a look of bewilderment on her face. "Mr. Giles, who?"

He stared at the young woman for a long second before answering. "I don't know," he admitted. There wasn't a shortage of suspects with grievances against the Council, just those with the nerve and resources to strike at its very heart. The only possible candidates he could think of was Wolfram & Hart.

"Oh good lord." If they'd strike here, then Buffy and Willow could also be in danger. Heart thundering, he reached inside his jacket for his mobile.

"Don't." 

"I beg your pardon?" he looked up to see Xander stood opposite him, a lucidity in his that had been missing for a year. And all it needed was a massacre, if only he'd known he have organised one... Shoving aside his macabre thought, he stared at his sin. "They need to be warned."

"Odds are whoever organised that," his son nodded towards the blazing ruin, "has the resources to tap a cell. We're out-manned, out-gunned, and on the run. Our only advantage is -."

"That they don't know we're still alive. Oh bollocks," Giles digested the unpalatable truth of Xander's words before dropping his mobile back in his pocket. "Very well. I'll need a new mobile."

"We also need a place to re-group. Any ideas?"

"One," Giles turned to Vi and Rona. "Bring her," the two Slayers looked more than little intimidated at that thought of restraining Faith. Which was understandable given the terrifying number of Slays and awesome reputation the Bostonian had built up this past year. "Here," he threw Vi the taser. "Stun her if she resists or tries to harm herself."

* * *

"Ugh, this stinks." He chuckled as he sloshed his way through the council's underground tunnels, the sewer's wastage dripping from him. "Still, with the million I got from the Scythe and the three million from the dead Slayers I can buy all the baths I need," he comforted himself. "And all the girls and comic books I've ever wanted."

* * *

"Coming!" His host's eyes widened when he opened the door. "Good lord it's been a bloody long time! How long has it been?"

"Twenty-two years. Since you were assigned that potential of yours," he supplied.

His old friend's eyes shadowed at the mention of the girl he'd raised as his daughter only for her to be brutally murdered. "Ah yes, of course. And how might I help you?"

"By dying," he brought his automatic from behind his back and fired. The silenced gun made a mocking phfft before impacting on his former comrade-in-arms' chest. His friend's eyes widened in shock and his mouth opened in a wordless shriek before his legs folded beneath him before falling to the ground. For a second he stared down at the corpse and sighed. "Terribly sorry old bean, but young Rupert's wrecking the Council. We both know it, you're just too soft-hearted to do what needs to be done." He turned to his agents behind him. "Gentlemen, you know what I require of you."

* * *

Dawn's breath came in heaving gasps as she raced away from her apartment, sweat soaking her from head to foot and her sister's screams reverberating through her. Buffy dead. She choked back a sob. Grieve later. If you didn't run she'd die too and then she would never get a chance to avenge her sister.

"Well hello pretty thing." Dawn's heart skipped a beat when a quartet of vampires stepped out of the shadows to surround her. Thanks to all the dojo time she'd pestered Buffy into spending with her this past year, she could and had handled two minions on her own on patrol before now. But four. And, her heart dropped further as she realised that in her hurry she'd left her purse behind, she didn't even have a stake. The lead demon leered at her. "We're going to have some fun."

"That's what I hate about you vampires," a voice sounded from behind the demons. "Always wanting to hog the pretty girls."

* * *

The moment he'd finished instructing the two Slayers, Giles turned towards the Council car park. Relieved that the inferno hadn't yet reached the car park, he started forward, impatient to be off so that he could find a phone box and safely call Buffy and Willow. "Wait."

He turned towards his surrogate son. "What now?" he demanded in frustration. "We need to get to a car and fast!"

Xander didn't blink. "Our own cars might not be safe."

His fellow male's words brought him up short. "Booby-trapped you mean?" Giles pursed his lips together in thought. It was a possibility that hadn't occurred to him, but was one that was far from impossible. 

"Maybe. But I was thinking out bugs."

"BUGS!" exclaimed Roan. "Someone's trying to kill us and you're worried about a few insects-," the dreadlocked Slayer's voice trailed off when both he and Xander turned to stare at her. "Which aren't the type of bugs you were talking about of-course."

After arching an eyebrow at the teen, a subtle reminder to think before speaking or acting, he turned back to Xander. "What do you suggest?"

Xander grimaced. "If jailbird," the younger man nodded towards Faith's crumpled frame, "was fully awake I'd suggest hot-wiring a car."

"I can do that," Giles interrupted. Ignoring Xander's continuing unwillingness to let go of his and Faith's troubled past, he smirked at Vi and Rona's twin surprised looks. "I wasn't always a bloody Watcher you know."

* * *

Illyria scowled as she dropped from the hotel and into the sewers, careful not to drop the unconscious half-breed she was cradling in her arms. She'd sensed the weapon a split-second before it had hit. Enough time for her to throw the nearest half-breed to the ground and cover him with her body, but Spike and the one that the mortal she'd possessed had known as Charles had been killed instantly.

"All will pay for the indignity visited upon me," she intoned. "All will tremble at an old one's fury!"


	4. 4

**FIC: A New World (4/?)**

"Where are we heading to Mr. Giles?"

"A former Watcher colleague has a country house an hour or so away," he replied to Rona's question.

"A Watcher?" Xander queried. "Are you sure he can be trusted? I mean with all the mass resignations."

Giles was briefly surprised that Xander had been sober enough for him to notice of the resignations that had followed his changes to the Council including the banning of the Cruicatmen, the changing of Watcher entry requirements, and introduction of a Slayer salary. "He wasn't a hard liner," he explained. "And he didn't resign then. He resigned in June '98. He is Samuel Zabuto."

Xander's single eye filled with understanding and his mouth opened but Vi beat him to it. "Who?"

"The Watcher of the Slayer between Buffy and Miss. Psycho," Xander explained.

Giles cast his son a worried glance. While he was relieved that the young man had been shocked out of his depression by recent events his continuing attitude towards Faith was a cause for concern. He resolved to have a word with the founding Scooby as soon as possible. A very stern word.

* * *

He smiled as he stepped out of the shadows, enjoying the vampires' confusion. "I mean what is it with you guys?" he continued. "All brooding and mysterious. Leaves a normal guy feeling all inferior. 'Course," he tilted his head to one side and smiled. "I'm not exactly normal."

His preamble finished, he leapt into action. After slamming a stake home into the nearest vampire's chest, he executed a side kick into the stomach of another demon, lifting it off its feet and propelling it into the near-by wall. Even as the vampire stumbled away from the wall, he sprang to meet it, his stake smashing into its heart.

Carrying on his charge, he rushed through the monster's dust and ran half-way up the wall before leaping off and cart wheeling to land behind the last two vampires. Before either vampire had chance to react he staked them both in lightning succession. "W..who are you?" a shaky voice demanded from behind him.

His mouth dried when he turned to face his questioner. Even with her cheeks puffy and her eyes bloodshot from crying, she was still one of the three most beautiful women he'd ever seen. Finding his tongue he straightened. "I'm Connor," he pronounced. "Son of Angel and Darla."

* * *

"The Circle of Black Thorn?"

"Decimated sir. The units' performance exceeded expectations." 

"Excellent, another force for evil gone," his leader nodded his approval. "And what of Angelus?"

"His hotel was destroyed with him and his companions within it."

"No confirmed kills?"

"No sir, but the entire building was annihilated in a ball of fire."

"Very well," his commanding officer looked far from satisfied. "Rosenberg and her pet Slayer?"

"Both confirmed dead."

"Excellent. And Summers?"

"Dead," he paused. "However our agents report that her sister escaped."

"Pah," his boss waved away that part of news. "Dawn Summers is of no consequence, a freak. Nothing more than a loose end that can be tied up at my leisure." His leader leaned towards his videophone screen, his eyes intense. "What of Martin, did she leave to follow Harris?"

"According to our inside source she was out of the building when we destroyed it."

"Excellent!" his leader beamed. "And what of the vampire I ordered?" "She has been captured sir." 

He attempted to keep his tone neutral but his disgust must have come through because his commander's eyes hardened. "You have a problem with my orders?"

"Sir, it's just I don't understand why the plan requires a vampire."

"It doesn't," the older man smiled, his eyes cold enough to chill ice. "I require it. You see, the demon I had you abduct has a reputation for sadism that is unparalled even amongst her fellow vampires. That little street tramp fancies she has the knack for torture, but I want to show her different. Besides I have a debt to pay."

* * *

"What's happening?" Angel groaned as he awoke pain shooting through his battered body. Not even his battles with Buffy, the Beast, or Faith had left him this broken up inside.

"We were attacked by a flame spell or dragon," the goddess informed him, her tone flat. 

"There were two of them?" Angel groaned, now that just wasn't fair. He suddenly realised that the Old One was carrying him cradled in her arms. Embarrassed, he let out a shout. "Put me down!"

The godhuman hybrid sighed long-sufferingly. "You are injured," she replied. "It makes more sense for me to carry you."

"Put. Me. Down," he repeated through gritted teeth.

"Very well." The goddess released her grip, dropping him into the sewage. 

Angel glared up at the expressionless figure stood over him. "I said put me down, not drop -," his voice trailed off as he looked around. "Where are the others?"

Something indefinable flickered in Illyria's eyes. "The half-breed called Spike and the human named Gunn both died."

The first emotion to hit him was sadness. And then a cold rage erupted, first Doyle, then Cordelia, then Wesley, and now Gunn. Every single one of his friends dead. Spike, his grand-childe too. Somebody was going to pay. Ignoring the pain and weariness afflicting him, he struggled to his feet. "Who?" he demanded, his voice hoarse with pain and anger.

The hybrid shook her head. "I know not."

"Then we had best find out," he declared. "And then kill them all."

"A worthy goal," Illyria nodded.

"Glad you approve."

* * *

"Connor?" hope flared in Dawn's heart. Willow had told her about meeting Angel's son, how he was nearly the match of his father. And the boy did sort of look like a skinnier version of the ensoulled vampire. Maybe there was a chance for her sister after all. "What are you doing here?"

"I came here with a message for your sister."

Dawn turned back to her apartment. "She's in there being attacked. Maybe-."

"No," the child of two vampires interrupted. "I can't sense any heartbeats in there. She's dead."

"NO!" Dawn felt her legs buckle, a pair of strong arms grab from behind and then darkness descend.

* * *

Giles drove up the gravel drive that led to his fellow Watcher's thatched cottage, the nervousness he would normally have felt at meeting the aging legend buried under the morning's tumultuous events. "We're here," he announced as he eased onto the brakes, halting the stolen vehicle just outside the front door. Looking over his shoulder to the back seat, he saw all three girls were glassy eyed. "Vi, Rona," he tried for a soothing tone but wasn't at all sure he succeeded. "Please take Faith inside." Once the trio had climbed out of the car, he turned to Xander beside him. "Son, I appreciate your efforts today. But please, ease up on Faith, she's suffering enough at this moment."

"Why should I?"

Giles fought back a sigh at Xander's bitter tone, he knew first-hand how stubborn the younger man could be. "Xander, you are the most forgiving person I know. You forgave Buffy all her mistakes, Anya for sleeping with Spike, Willow for trying to kill you, and me for running out on you all following Buffy's second resurrection. What makes Faith so different?"

"I love you guys, her I don't. I could have once, but she threw that back in my face."

"Well at least-."

"Mr Giles!" his head snapped towards a grey-faced Rona stood in the house's doorway. "Mr. Zabuto's dead!"


	5. 5

**FIC: A New World (5/?)**

Connor stared in bemusement at the beauty in his arms for a second before shaking himself out of his shock. Lifting Dawn's limp body into his arms he disappeared into the darkness.

Giles looked in disbelief at the former Watcher's corpse. They were in the former Watcher's living room. Zabuto was sat in his chair, a ghastly hole in his chest and S&W revolver resting on his lap. "He didn't do it."

"I beg your pardon?" Giles tore his gaze from his colleague's body to look towards his son.

Xander stepped past him and crouched down by the body, taking obvious care not to touch it. "Where's the suicide note?" Giles looked towards Vi and Rona, both Slayers shook their heads. "And suicides usually don't shoot themselves in the heart, it's always the head."

"How can you be sure?" Vi asked.

Xander's gaze didn't shift from his inspection of the corpse, but his stark answer made Giles' heart shrivel. "I thought about it enough this last year." Finally Xander stood and turned to face them. "We can't use the phone, it might be bugged," the founding Scooby declared. "All this might be a trap. We best leave now."

"Very well," Giles turned to the Slayers. "Let's go."

"Why didn't you let me go to Woodie?"

* * *

"How do you intend to find our assailants?" Angel stopped at his companion's query. He'd been so consumed with vengeful thoughts of tearing his enemies apart he hadn't even considered how he'd find out who they were. "I have a few contacts remaining from my pre Wolfram & Hart days," he replied uncertainly. "We'll track them down."

"A good plan," the goddess. "Then we'll torture them for information."

Angel resisted the urge to shudder. And he thought Angelus was visceral. "In my experience bribes usually work better. Torture is always a last resort." He stopped as his mobile began to ring. "Who in the hell?"

* * *

Giles stared at the Bostonian Slayer. "I beg your pardon?" it was the first time since he'd tasered her that Faith had spoken her silence.

"Woodie needed me," Faith glared at him, the look in her eyes causing his stomach to flutter nervously. "And you kept me from him. Why?"

"Faith," Giles struggled for words, rocked by the intensity of the senior Slayer's hatred. "You're my charge, I couldn't let you sacrifice yourself-."

"Ah bullshit!" Faith snorted. "You're just like all the rest. My ma's boy-friends needed me to be their special girl. Lin needed me to be her Slayer. Just like you," the east coast native jabbed a furious finger his way, "needed me to stay in a shithole of a hotel so I was close enough to give your precious daughter back-up, but not so close that you'd actually have to treat me like I mattered!"

"Faith that's not -."

"Now," he was alarmed to see tears welling in the brunette's soulful brown eyes, "one of the only two people to ever treat me with respect are dead and you need me to help you find his murderers. And that's five by five. I'll help you hunt down and kill every last one of the bastards. But afterwards," the young woman's heart-shaped lips curled up in disdain, "I'm through with the Council. I'm gonna go work with Angel. You got a problem with that, you best send another one of those wet works teams after me."

Giles stared aghast at the brunette's shapely behind as she stormed out of the room. He hadn't meant to use Faith, he really hadn't. But with hindsight, he could see that, consumed with Jenny's death, Angel's return, and Buffy's Crucitamen, he'd terribly neglected her. He started when he felt a hand on his elbow. "Come on G-Man," Xander muttered in his ear. "Whatever killed Zabuto might be watching this place."

"Quite," he replied dazedly. Whatever it took, he'd make it up to that poor girl he silently promised.

* * *

Angel stared at the ringing phone. "Are you not going to answer it?"

"Um?" he glanced over his shoulder to the hybrid stood behind him. "Thinking about it," he replied. "Problem is, most of the people I know who have this number are dead. It's probably an enemy ringing to check that I'm dead."

"My guide mentioned that he used Caller Id to avoid calls from the half-breed Harmony," Illyria commented slowly. "Does your phone not have such a tool."

Angel winced. Great, now the recently resurrected were more familiar with modern-day technology than him. If he was human he'd be blushing right about now. "Yeah," he admitted brusquely before glancing down at the display. Eyes widening, he answered the phone with a bark. "Connor! Why are you ringing me?"

* * *

Xander kept a worried eye on Giles as the grey-faced Watcher drove them through Newmarket's streets, the earliness of the hour meaning that the roads were thankfully mostly devoid of traffic. The strain of the last couple of hours had left the Council head haggard and drawn, his usually bright and alert eyes dull and lifeless.

And then there was, Xander risked a discreet glance into the rear view mirror, Faith. He'd hated her for so long for living when his Anya had died. It hadn't seemed right that the bitch who'd tried to kill him had survived while the girl he'd wanted to spend the rest of his life with hadn't.

But the hurt and pain in the outburst she'd directed at Giles had robbed him of much of his rage. Willow, Anya, Deadboy, and Peroxide Boy should have taught him there were shades of grey in the world and not just black and white. "Never was the sharpest knife in the drawer," he muttered to himself. He now regretted the off-hand and, he winced, downright rude he'd treated her attempts at reconciliation. Faith really needed a friend right now but she didn't have anybody. And given her current mood making up would be a heck of a chore. But she was worth the attempt.

For himself, he was ashamed to admit it but today's events had shaken him out of his year-long depression. Ensuring that Giles, Vi, Rona, and now Faith were protected and avenging those who'd died in the keep had focussed him, given him a reason to continue. At least for now. Xander's remaining eye narrowed as he noticed something. "Giles, pull over."

* * *

Connor smiled at his father's tone. "Daddy, I'm hurt. So recently re-united and already you've no time for me?"

"Connor," he could almost hear the Irish vampire counting to ten. "It's not that I'm not-."

"Relax dad," his tone turned serious. "Are you okay?"

His father sighed "I'm okay, but Wes and Gunn, they're dead."

"Oh," Connor felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. His memories were fragmentary at best but her remembered enough. He swallowed the bitter bile rising in his throat. "I'm sorry."

"So am I," his father paused for a second. "Do you need something?"

"Yeah," Connor swallowed. His dad wasn't going to like his news at all. "After speaking to you I jumped on the next plane to Italy and went to see Buffy to ask for help-."

"YOU DID WHAT!"

Connor swallowed at his father's interrupting roar. Even a half a world away his parent was still scary. "But when I got there, she was dead. I managed to get her sister out there though."

"Buffy," his father croaked. "Who?"

"I'm not clear, Dawn fainted after I rescued her."

"Okay," his father paused for a second. "Well done for saving Dawn. Now were are you staying, at a hotel?"

"Yes, at the-."

"Don't tell me," the vampire interrupted. "This line might be tapped. Are you registered under your old or new name?"

"New."

"Okay, that's good. They're less likely to know that. You remember Faith and Willow."

"Yes." He nodded. The frighteningly powerful red-head and the sex-bomb Slayer were difficult to forget even after a memory-altering spell.

"Good, have you got some paper and a pen?"

"Yeah."

"Here are their numbers. Ring them both, tell them what's happened. If anyone else answers or you get their machine just hang-up. Keep moving, change your address daily. Whatever took Buffy out is out of your league."

"I can handle myself!" Connor hissed, bristling at the insinuation.

"Son, who are the best fighters you've ever fought?"

"You and Faith," Connor answered without hesitation.

"Buffy beat us both."

"Oh." Humbled, Connor nodded. "I'll do as you ask."

"Good, I'll get over to Italy as soon as possible. Ring me daily. And soon?"

"Yes."

"I love you."


	6. 6

**FIC: A New World (6/?)**

"Excuse me sir."

Gareth Young looked behind him to see a stocky, one-eyed man hurrying to him. He pulled away from his phone call to speak to the brown-haired stranger. "Yes?"

"I need your mobile," the young man offered him a handful of notes. "Here's two hundred and forty pounds."

Noting the wild-eyed look in the thick-set man's eye, he took a step backwards. "Not interested," he replied. "It has all my numbers."

"I'm afraid," the young man grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a head butt, the blow shattering the bridge of his nose, blood gushing out instantly. "I have to insist." His mouth opened in a scream that turned into a croak when his assailant drove a fist into his stomach. Legs buckling beneath him, he fell on his side onto the pavement, lungs wheezing for air. "Sorry about this, but my need is greater etc, etc." He felt his assailant shove the proffered notes in his hand before striding away.

* * *

Giles stared at him with bulging eyes as he climbed back into the car. "You mugged that man!" the Watcher exclaimed. 

"Really?" Xander snapped back as the car screeched away from the kerb, a sour taste in his mouth from his actions. "I hadn't noticed Mr. Joyrider. I offered him two hundred and forty pounds for a fifty pound phone but he wasn't interested. And we need it more."

His defence given, he dialled both Buffy and Will's numbers in quick succession but to his dismay he only got their answering machines. "Nothing?"

He shook his head at Giles' muttered question. "Nothing," he confirmed. The two of them exchanged troubled glances.

"Give me the phone I wanna ring Fang."

"No, I'm afraid not," Giles shook his head. "We can't be sure that-."

"GMan," Xander interrupted, his tone soft yet firm. Looking into the back of the vehicle he couldn't help but emphasise with the desperation and pain in the east coast native's liquid eyes. Despite being sandwiched between her sister Slayers, Faith looked like the loneliest person in the world. "Who's your senior Slayer?"

After a few seconds the Englishman answered reluctantly. "Faith."

"Then trust her to make the right decision," he passed the mobile through the gap between the two front seats. "There you go Faith."

* * *

Faith stared at the offered phone, amazed that Xander would take her side. Finally she reached out a trembling hand and took the mobile with a grateful nod. For a moment she stared at the phone frozen with fearful indecision. What if Fang was gone too? Then she'd had no-one again. Finally she forced her trepidation down deep and dialled her mentor's number.

* * *

Angel stopped and groaned when his mobile began ringing again. For a clandestine escape it wasn't exactly stealthy. And, Angel's brow furrowed, he belatedly realised that someone, probably Spike, had re-programmed his ring-tone as 'Sesame Street'. 

Deciding to keep his new ring-tone in tribute to his fallen grand-childe, Angel pulled out his phone and squinted at the display. Not recognising the number he was tempted to ignore it, but eventually curiosity got the better of him. "Hello?"

"The bastards killed him."

Angel blinked, as a greeting it was unusual and the speaker's trembling voice was almost unrecognisable. Almost. "Killed who Faith?" he asked, his tone soft.

"My Robbie," the brunette's voice broke off, "they bombed the Council Keep." Angel's mouth dropped open. Who would dare attack the new, more proactive, Council? "I wasn't with him when he died. I failed him Fang, just like," the girl took a rattling breath, "just like I fail everyone."

"Now listen to me Faith," pushing aside his shock, Angel injected a firm note into his voice. "I never met your boyfriend," probably saved him from having to kick the stupid bastard's ass when he tried to stake him and Spike, "but from what you've told me he wouldn't want you to die for him. Understand?"

"Yeah."

His protégé's whispered agreement was less than heartfelt but he knew that there was little he could immediately do from this distance. "Is there anybody with you?" God, if Faith was on her own in this state, with her self-destructive history.

"Yeah, couple of other Slayers, G, and Xan."

Angel sighed with relief. Well that was something. Aside from Wesley he respected Giles more than any man he'd ever known and Xander was a loyal and reliable friend. "Could I speak to Giles or Xander?"

"Yeah."

A second later. "Hello?"

Xander. Angel winced. This was going to be a fun conversation. "Xander what happened? Faith's a little hazy?"

"Someone fired a rocket into the keep."

The Scooby's reply hit him like a thunderbolt. He glanced towards Illyria, realising the goddess in her inexperience of the modern world had thought a missile attack was a dragon. "Same thing happened here. It wiped out most of my team. How many dead on your side?"

There was a pause before the young man replied. "About eighty."

"Damn," Angel closed his eyes for a second in a gesture of respect for fellow fallen warriors. "Xander," he swallowed. "I've got some bad news."

"Yeah?" the young man's voice was wary.

"I just got a phone call from my son," Angel paused; this was so hard to even say. Gathering his courage, he continued. "He's in Italy. He'd gone to ask Buffy to help me but found her dead but he did manage to rescue Dawn from some vampires."

"God no," Xander's voice cracked slightly. "But Dawn Patrol's safe?"

"For the moment," Angel replied. "Connor's looking after her for the moment. But I'm heading out there as soon as possible."

"So will we," Xander paused. "Us, you, Buffy, and Willow too. There's something really heavy after us isn't there?"

"There is," he confirmed. "Keep in touch and an eye on Faith for me."

"I will," Xander promised before hanging up.

Angel stared at the phone for a few seconds before pocketing it. "Compassion makes one weak."

"You think so?" Angel turned to the resurrected Old One. "Compassion makes humans stronger than you could imagine. Caring," he thought of Buffy, Cordelia, and Connor, "loving, takes more courage than anything in the world, because to care opens you up to the possibility of loss." He turned away from the goddess.

"Where are we going?" Illyria demanded in that curiously metallic voice of hers.

"To steal an airplane."

* * *

Giles looked around the boarding house rooms he'd rented under an assumed name, he was devastated by Buffy and, by obvious conclusion, Willow's deaths, but there would be time to grieve later. He had other responsibilities to his other charges, especially Dawn. "What do we know about our adversaries?" 

"Nothing," Faith muttered, the rage she'd confronted him with at Zabuto's had left her eyes, leaving the usually energetic Slayer looking dull and lifeless. "We know fuck all."

"Actually," Xander leaned forward, his single eye intent. "We know a lot. They've got serious resources. They managed four simultaneous hits across the globe, using a variety of methods – including demons and hi-tech military hardw-."

"Five possibly," Giles corrected.

"Sorry?" Xander stared at him.

"I've tried to contact Julia Lee, the head of Watcher East, but nothing."

"Damn," Xander looked deep into his eyes. "They're also really well informed. They knew where and when to strike."

"But who are they?" Vi interrupted, quiet desperation in her eyes.

There was silence for a few seconds. "Maybe someone governmental. Maybe Riley could give us a head's up?" Xander suggested.

"No," Giles shook his head. "Riley disappeared just over four months ago."

"Ah hell," Xander groaned. "A pre-emptive strike?"

"Quite possibly, although his wife Samantha had recently died at a band of Qwar-Laks. So perhaps he's simply deserted, doesn't feel up to fighting anymore," Giles replied. "Our immediate priority is getting to Dawn. The question is how do we do that discreetly?"

"Leave that to me," Xander said.

* * *

Xander took a rattling breath as he stepped out of the room he was sharing with Giles. They'd tried Willow's number several times in the last few hours without success. Willow and Buffy, his life-long friend and his hero both dead. 

"Time to grieve later," he muttered. He'd grieved enough in the past year, allowed his anger and pain to hurt those closest to him. His priority now had to be Dawn, Giles, and, he knocked on the next guest room door, Faith. "Faith, can I come in?"

"L…leave me alone."

Xander's hand dropped to the door handle and hesitated. "You know," he decided talking through the door was possibly safer. "I forgave you the moment you walked through Buffy's front door. Coming to help us took real courage. But afterwards, after Anya died, I hated you, the girl who'd tried to kill me, for living when the woman I love died." Xander took a breath, forcing oxygen past the lump in his throat. "That's what grief does to you, it take away your reason. Don't let that happen to you, Anya wouldn't have wanted it for me and Wood wouldn't want it for you. There's plenty of people who care-."

"Sure there is," Faith responded, a world of bitterness in her pain-filled voice.

He ignored the interruption. "Do what I didn't and talk to someone. If not me, there's Giles, Rona, and Vi. We all care." He waited for an invitation to come in. When he didn't get one, he walked away. He'd try again later.


	7. 7

**FIC: A New World (7/?)**

"Oh no," Connor pulled Dawn into the shadows.

"What's wrong?" the last remaining Summers demanded, her voice shrill.

Connor glanced worriedly at his companion. Since last night, the beautiful teen had been on a knife-edge, veering between the extremes of depression and hysteria. Deciding she had the right to know whatever news there was, however bad, he tore a poster from the nearest wall. "Do you read Italian?" the Sunnydale native nodded at him. "What does this say?"

Dawn's doe-like eyes grew saucer-sized as she recognised the poster's photograph. "That's me!" she squawked.

"Focus," Connor muttered.

"Yeah right," Dawn nodded before looking down at the sheet of paper. "Wanted. Dawn Summers, 17. Miss. Summers is suspected of the robbery of three tourists, drugs-smuggling, and prostitution." Dawn's jaw hit the ground. "Prostitution! Who do they think I am, Faith?"

"Quiet," Connor hissed as he clamped a palm over the girl's mouth as it opened for another rant. "Low profile, remember? I think there was a deaf Sicilian who didn't hear you."

"Sorry," Dawn's apology was muffled by his hand. "I'm calm now." Relieved, he released his hold. "What are we going to do?"

"Um," seeing a near-by sign he smiled as a light-bulb clicked on. "I think you need an image change."

* * *

"Xander," Giles glanced nervously around the safety deposit bank. "If we are being tracked then perhaps a bank transaction isn't the best way to keep a low profile."

"I know," his son nodded. "But we haven't got a choice. And after this, we won't need to break cover again until we're ready."

After a second, Giles nodded reluctantly. "Very well," he conceded before glancing at his companion. While his own sleep had been plagued by nightmares and the girls' too, judging by their red eyes and generally dishevelled appearance, Xander appeared to be almost revitalised. It was as if the crisis had propelled him out of his year-long depression, returning him to his usual vitality. "I'll bow to your judgment."

Xander appeared inordinately pleased by the compliment. "Um, thanks." As Xander stepped up to the reception desk, Giles took a second to glance around their surroundings.

It was a simple enough set-up, a small office in a side street off the town's busy main street. Giles grimaced as he noted the two CCTV cameras over the grilled front door. If their mysterious adversaries tracked them this far, then they'd know they'd come here. At least in the vault there'd be no camera, leaving their opponents to wonder why exactly they'd come here.

This was something he was more than a little intrigued about. "We're ready."

Giles turned at Xander's voice. "Lead the way," he instructed.

The pretty receptionist led them into the vault, a long room filled with two rows of deposit boxes stacked ten high. "Here you are Mr. Harris," the twenty-something woman stopped by one of the columns. "Number 288. I'll leave you to it. Buzz the intercom when you're ready to leave."

"Thanks miss," Xander nodded. Once the bank worker had exited the vault, closing the door behind her, Xander unlocked his box and pulled the tray inside it out, placing it on the table central to the vault.

Giles' eyes widened when his son pulled the tray's lid off to reveal a .32 automatic and a selection of documents including a passport, driving licence, and a quartet of bank books. "What is all this?"

"When Anya died," Xander's single eye shadowed in pain. "She left me $350,000 in her will." Giles blinked. Xander chuckled humourlessly. "My girl could play the stock market. In addition I got another 100 k for my eye and half a million as beneficiary of Anya's life insurance." Xander looked down at the table for a second before continuing. "When the money came through, I took it. Converted it into pounds, 600,000 in all. Then, remember that week last October, when I disappeared?" After a second he nodded. He'd had Vi and Rona tear the locality apart looking for his son until the young man had suddenly reappeared, ignoring all requests for an explanation. "I went to London, looking for a forger so I could get some fake ID."

"Why?"

"I knew if I just left you'd try and track me down. If I had false ID and my money in fake accounts then maybe I might be able to escape."

"Why didn't you go through with the running?"

Xander shrugged. "Lack of motivation. Cowardice. Reluctance to leave the only people who ever knew Anya." Xander shrugged again. "Take your pick."

"And your plan is to get us some fake ID. Using your contacts?"

"Something like that," Xander offered him the snub .32.

"That'll take time," Giles commented as he pocketed the gun.

"I know," frustration showed in Xander's eye. "But we don't have a choice if we want to get to Dawn. And Angel's got access to resources we no longer have, he should get there sooner."

Giles nodded, the undeniable truth of what Xander had said hitting home. "Then what is your plan?"

"You take Rona and Vi," Xander passed him the bundles of notes, "and get us a new car, clothes, and some mobiles. "I'll take Faith as protection as I empty these." Xander waved the account books. "Then tonight we'll head down to my contact and get some false ID."

"Do you think it's prudent to separate Faith from Vi and Rona?" Giles queried. In her current mood the Bostonian made him more than a little wary. "She could be a danger to you."

"It's possible," Xander shrugged, his remaining eye suddenly cold. "But without Anya I still don't care if I live or die, just as long as you, Dawn, and the others do, and someone pays for Will and Buff's deaths. Coming?"

"Coming," Giles concurred. As his son turned to the intercom, he was struck by the realisation just how dangerous the Sunnydale High School graduate truly was.

* * *

Angel hurried, wraith-like, across the Wolfram & Hart private airfield. He and Illyria had exited the sewers an hour ago after spending the last day in them and headed for the jet he'd used on his last trip to Italy. With Spike.

Pushing aside his surprising sense of loss at his childe's death, he stepped out of the shadows behind the plane's pilot, stood just by his plane. "Hello Russell."

The pilot spun to face him, his face paling. "A…angel," the man stumbled backwards. "But you're dead."

"Undead actually," he corrected with a smile. "Now I need the plane-."

"I can't," Russell shook his head. "You're no longer-, ugh."

"I wasn't asking," Angel clamped a hand around the pilot's throat and lifted him off the ground before morphing into his demonic visage. "I was telling." Grabbing hold of the propeller on the plane's nose, he gave it a spin. "You know in my wild days I was considered quite the torturer. Never got to use a propeller on a man's face though."

"I'll take wherever you want to go," Russell stammered.

"Of course you will," Angel returned to his human face before lowering the shaking pilot to the ground. "Now get on with it. I'm in a hurry."

As the pilot raced up the plane's steps, he sensed Illyria behind him. "I thought you said you did not use torture?"

"I don't on humans as a rule. Never said anything about intimidation."

"Ah," Illyria nodded. "I understand. You are wise indeed. You will make a worthy guide."

"I'm so honoured," Angel muttered. He noticed it hadn't been a request.

* * *

"And what would madam want?"

Dawn glanced around the stylish hair-dressing saloon that Connor had dragged her into after buying her a pair of sun-glasses before replying. "I want it cutting short."

"Short?" the waif-like Italian beauty stood behind her, reflected in the mirror in front of her, looked horrified. "But to cut such beautiful hair is a crime!"

Dawn gritted her teeth. The stylist's words echoed her own thoughts. For as long as she could remember she'd been proud of her long, straight hair. But if she wanted to live long enough to see her sister avenged for the moment she had to hide. "I feel like a change," she lied. "And maybe a perm and some tints too."

* * *

"How are you feeling today Faith?"

"Five by five."

The dullness in the brunette's normally spirited eyes, the paleness of her skin, and the puffiness of her cheeks said different. For a second Xander stared at the Bostonian sat opposite before glancing down at the pub menu. "What do you want for lunch?"

"Not hungry."

"Okay," he glanced at the hovering waitress. Deciding to ignore the Slayer's reply he gave his order. "Two 16 oz steaks, two side orders of fries, and a side order of onion rings." The waitress nodded before disappearing to the kitchen. "You need to keep your strength up."

When he received no reply he looked around the bar. It was a typical English pub, dimly lit with rustic furnishings and a crackling fire in the far corner, the perfect refuge and antidote to a typical rainy English day. Turning back to his companion, he decided to try again. "It hurt losing someone doesn't it?"

Something dangerous flickered in Faith's eyes. "Gonna gloat are ya?"

"No," Xander took a calming breath. "Just to offer some advice. I've wasted the last year in a pit of self-pity, you shouldn't do the same. I didn't realise there were other people who cared -."

"Cared about you," Faith interrupted, her eyes hardening. "The only person who didn't think of me as second-best to B or just a slut is dead."

"That's not true," Xander countered. "Even in my depression I noticed how excited all the Slayers would get when you returned. They idolised you."

"Yeah. Past tense, they're all dead."

"Not all, Vi and Rona are still alive, they need your guidance. And there's other girls around the world. You're their hero."

"Whatever."

"Okay, then what about Deadboy?" A muscle in the Bostonian's left cheek twitched. Encouraged, Xander continued. "We'll be seeing him in a few days. What will it do to him to see you like this?"

"You don't give a shit about Fang!" Faith accused.

"Guilty," he nodded. "But I give a shit about you. I don't want to see a strong, spirited woman fall back into her self-abusive ways."

"See, you do look down on me."

"No," Xander denied with a shake of his head. "I admire how you managed to drag yourself up from an abusive childhood to be a hero. In fact," he hesitated before plunging in. "I'd be honoured if you'd consider me as your Watcher."

"You think you can replace Woodie?" Faith scowled. "You think being my Watcher would give you rights or something?"

"No." It was an effort, but again Xander managed to keep his temper under control by reminding himself that retaliating could well end up with him being thrown through the nearest window.

"Why then?"

"Because an amazing woman tried like hell to be my friend and I was too stupid to realise what a precious gift she was offering. I'd like a second chance."

Faith stared at him for a long second before speaking. "I'll think about it,"

"Great," Xander beamed at his companion before looking towards the kitchen. "Where is that food? Oh, and one other thing?"

"Yeah?" Faith didn't look up.

"Prison showers, anything like Caged Heat?" Xander grinned. "You did it."

"Did what? This time the Slayer glanced up at him.

"Smiled."

"Did not!"

"Did too."


	8. 8

**FIC: A New World (8?)**

"Sir," Agent F rushed into the board room that served as their organisation's headquarters, foregoing the customary knock on the door in his haste. "I have the surveillance reports from Zabuto's residence."

"Excellent!" An interested gleam in his eyes, his group leader leaned forward. "Please continue."

"It's bad news I'm afraid. As well as Xander and Faith," his mouth twisted in disgust at having to mention that little bitch's name, "it appears that Mr. Giles and Slayers Vi Roberts and Rona Jones also survived."

"Three Slayers and Rupert," his boss pursed his lips together in thought. "Harris is a nonentity but the others…."

"Yes sir," Agent F replied. He secretly disagreed with the Englishman's assumption that only the empowered and the trained could be of use. Personal experience had taught that Xander could be very dangerous, especially when those he cared for were under threat or hurt. His one regret about this operation was Xander's inevitable demise. The others he didn't care about, but Xander was different. However his former friend's renowned loyalty meant he had to die.

"Yes," his organisation chief appeared not to have heard his interruption. "And what of them since, what reports do we have?"

"There's a police report of an one-eyed man mugging a businessman for a mobile and a boarding-house in Oxford of a booking made by the same man, then nothing."

"Um, they are proving trickier than I expected. Still," his boss drummed his fingers on the oak table before him for a few seconds, "I think it's time to proceed with stage 2 of our plan, the sweep-up."

Agent F nodded. "Yes sir, I'll go give the orders."

* * *

"Got everything Dawn?" Connor hid a sigh at the lack of animation in his partner's eyes. His enhanced hearing had never seemed like a such a curse as he sat helplessly in the next room listening to Dawn's sobs for the last two nights. The worse thing was he could do nothing but protect her.

And part of protecting her were their nightly moves to different hotels as dad had instructed him. He'd chosen night-time for their moves as the lesser of two evils. At night there'd probably be more dangerous creatures searching for them, but the cloak of darkness made finding them more difficult. "Let's go."

* * *

"Hello Tommy."

Tommy Stevens looked up at the voice. He recognised the one-eyed speaker as Al Lewis, a yank he'd done some work for around a year ago. And this time he'd brought company – three cracking birds and a bookish-looking older geezer. "Right Al," he nodded gratefully at the pint the American put in front of him.

"I've got some work for you," Al dropped onto the bar stool opposite him, the older man standing behind him, and the three corkers taking up almost sentry positions around him. "My companions need the same documentation you did for me."

Tommy gave the young American a measured look. Even through the pub's smoke-filled haze he could see that the younger man's air of defeat had replaced by one of purpose, his posture was straighter and his eyes noticeably more alert. Finally he spoke. "Forty thou the lot, take five days."

"No," Al shook his head. "Too long. Sixty grand for Thursday."

Tommy raised an eyebrow, briefly wondering at the urgency. "You're having a laugh aren't you? Eighty for three days."

Al drummed his fingers on the table between them before shaking his head. "How about this? One hundred and twenty K for Wednesday."

Tommy blinked before reaching across the table and offering his hand. "Forty grand now?"

"Deal," Al shook his hand before looking behind him. "Faith."

The brunette stunner passed him four brown envelopes from within the thickly packed sports bag she was carrying with surprisingly effortlessness. After a quick peek into the envelopes, he nodded. "Great," he stood. "You got the photos?" Al passed him four photo booth strips. "What names do you want?" he noted them down. "Meet me in here, Wednesday at dinner."

Al smiled. "Thanks."

* * *

"One hundred and twenty thousand quid!" G raged as they hurried back to the SUV they'd bought in Xan's assumed name. "The bloke's a sodding scoundrel!"

X-Man chuckled dryly. "The man's a criminal G-man, what did you expect? Tea and crumpets?" Xan's face sobered. "Yeah, we were jobbed but he does great work and if paying extra gets us to Dawn sooner…"

"Yes," G sighed. For a second Faith felt guilty for the Englishman's haggard weariness, knowing that her outburst had contributed to it. But only for a second, it wasn't like she'd lied or anything. "And what do you propose we do for the next day and a half?"

Faith opened her mouth to suggest finding the local demon kingpin and beating some information out of him but Xander beat her to the punch. "I've always wanted to see some of London – Buckingham Palace, Tower Of London, Big Ben, that sort of thing."

Faith bristled at Xander's airy tone. "Our friends are fucking dead, some unknown evil is hunting us, and you want to go sight-seeing?" she hissed. "Are you -."

"Faith," Xander's tone was soft but filled with an indefinable something that halted her in mid-rant. "Whoever's after us will be combing every hotel, boarding-house, and pub in the country looking for us. We can't just stay in one place. We have to keep moving."

"And where's less likely for us to be than a sight-seeing tour," Faith nodded in understanding. "I get. Sorry for-."

"Doesn't matter," Xander forestalled her apology with a raised hand. "We're all stressed out."

Faith stared appraisingly at Xander's broad back as the founding Scooby led them back to the car. She'd always thought of Xander as loyal, funny, and wicked brave but no so much with the smarts.

But the last couple of days had shown different. Xman was real resourceful and with G a mess her former boytoy had taken over the running of the group with an efficiency that had surprised her. For the first time she was giving his offer of being her Watcher serious consideration.

* * *

"We're here Mr. Angel," the pale-faced pilot reported as the plane taxied down onto the privately owned airfield.

"We have reached our destination?" Illyria enquired from her position stood at the back of the cockpit.

"Yes," Angel glanced from left to right. Satisfied that the airfield was empty he turned towards the pilot. "I don't have to -."

His eyes widened as Illyria snatched hold of the WH employee's head and twisted, breaking the man's neck. "Why the hell did you do that?" he exploded to his feet. "We don't just kill people!"

The goddess appeared unmoved in the face of his fury. "Was his continued existence not a threat to our safety? Would he not have informed on our whereabouts? Would he not have placed your son at risk? Is he not more important to you than the minion of your enemy?" Angel stared at the blue-haired woman. There were some questions that not even the best of guides could answer.

Taking his silence as assent, Illyria pushed past him. "Let us leave here," she ordered, her tone lofty. "We must immediately track down your son."

Angel smiled unwillingly. At least he'd get to see Connor soon. Although, his stomach clenched, there'd also be the ordeal of seeing a grief-stricken Dawn.

* * *

"Faith! Wait up!"

Faith glanced over her shoulder and scowled at the chubby figure hurrying after her. "X, I just want some time alone, k?"

"No it isn't," Xander corrected as he stopped beside her as she shoved open the hotel front door open and stepped out into the drizzly night. Fucking limey summers. "Tonight madam, I'm your shadow."

"Damn it X!" Faith snarled. "I'm not gonna go psycho."

"I know you're not," Xander replied his tone even. "It's you I'm worried about."

Faith glanced at her unwelcome companion. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want you getting loaded and giving yourself to some sleaze not fit to lace your boots."

Faith stared up into Xander's eyes, rocked by the concern she saw there. "Why do you give a shit?"

Xander sighed. "Because when Buffy and Willow left because of burn-out you didn't. You tried to help me when I was at my lowest. I'm just trying to re-pay the favour."

After a second Faith nodded and turned back to the hotel. "Wanna go back in? Maybe spend a few hours about talking about Woodie and Anya?"

"Yeah," Xander let out a rattling sigh and smiled wistfully. "I'd like that. It's been a long time since I talked about Anya to anyone."

* * *

Agent W bounced up and down in his seat as his quarry turned back into the hotel. The genius mastermind of the nefarious global network he was now a loyal minion of had been most displeased when Faith had managed to slip the net. But now he was redeemed. "Just like Vader in Return of The Jedi or Londo in Babylon 5!" Calming himself, he dialled his mobile. "I need an extraction team stat!" He beamed as he hung up. He'd always wanted to say that. Agent W scowled as he realised he hadn't told them where he needed the team. Sighing, he picked up the phone and re-dialled it. 


	9. 9

**FIC: A New World (9?)**

Faith exploded with laughter as Xman finished the story of when Anya had thought she was engaged to Giles 'cause of a miscast memory spell by Red. Man, Xan was a shit-hot storyteller. She trailed off in mid-laugh, her gaze dropping to the carpet.

"Faith," Xander's concerned voice cut through her musings. "What's wrong?"

She didn't break from her inspection of the floor. "I..I'm having a wicked time shooting a breeze with ya X, you tell a hell of a story."

"But you feel like betraying Wood by not being miserable?" Faith nodded, just the mention of the former principal forming a lump in her throat. "I've spent the last year thinking like that. That spending every moment remembering Anya was like a memorial. But now…"

"Now?" Faith looked up to see an otherwise expressionless Xander wipe away a tear.

"Now I think, no I know that Anya would want me to remember her always." Her companion chuckled. "If I didn't, she'd come back and haunt me. But she'd be," Xander grinned at her, "'wicked pissed' at the way I've wasted the last year." Xander took her hands in his. "Anya, and Wood too, wouldn't want us to be destroyed by their deaths."

"I guess," Faith replied slowly. What X said made a sort of sense. Hurt, grieve, but don't let it become you. Kinda like something Fang would say. "But-."

Her head snapped towards the window at a faint sound on the outside fire escape. Hushing Xander to silence, she backward rolled to the other side of the bed and crept towards the window. Suddenly the window exploded inwards, showering her with glass.

Ignoring her multiple cuts, Faith sidestepped towards the window, driving an elbow into one of the two newly appeared shapes stood on the balcony while at the same time kicking the gun out of his right hand. Before her would-be attacker had time to react she had him by the throat and flung him head-first into the wall.

Only now did the other intruder begin to turn towards her. "Too late!" she crowed as she drove her foot into the man's balls, driving him to his knees. Damn, it felt good to deliver some quality violence. Faith smirked as she slammed a downwards arcing right into the man's face, splitting down the middle of his nose and knocking the now unconscious thug onto his back.

"Faith! On the ground now!"

Faith dropped stone-like to the carpet. Her Slayer hearing picked up the sound of something flying over her, and as she rolled onto her back as she saw an object smash into the face of another suddenly appeared attacker, knocking the stunned man back a step and over the waist-high balcony railing with a scream.

"Thanks X!" Faith bounded to her feet and launched into a spinning back-fist that smashed into the last thug's face, sending blood splattering, and him following his companion over the railing. Faith grabbed hold of the man she'd thrown into the wall, it was past time for some answers. "Who sent you?" she screamed into the dazed man's face.

"No time for that," Xander snapped. "What about the others?"

"Damn!" Faith threw the bleeding body out of the third floor window. Xan had a point. "Thanks for the save X. What did you throw at him anyway?"

Xander grinned. "I grabbed the Gideon bible off your bedside table."

Faith threw her head back and laughed. "Me, saved by the good book? How's that for irony?"

* * *

Giles smiled as he heard Faith laughing in the room opposite. It was a beautiful sound, and one, Giles grimaced, that thanks in large part to his own actions, he'd heard all too rarely in the past. But that would change, he silently vowed. No matter what it took, he'd make it up to her. 

His scowl deepened as he thought of the mayhem enacted. All those innocents murdered, and yet it was more even than that. It had taken bloody hard work to re-build the Council, finding those worthy of being Watchers, rooting out the rotten apples, putting new laws in, re-building the library, and finding the Slayers. He didn't know if he had the energy to do it again. And yet it seemed he had little choice.

His train of thought was interrupted by a thudding on the hotel's thin outer wall. Eyes narrowing and mouth drying, he reached for the .32 concealed beneath his pillow. As his finger closed around the automatic's handle, his room's window burst inwards and two men rappelled in.

Calling on skills he hadn't used in well over two decades, he quickly aimed and fired off two shots into each of the intruders' heads even as he flung himself to the floor. He watched in horrified fascination as blood flew out of the back of his attackers' skulls, their bodies jerking spasmodically on their jumplines. Rolling to his feet, Giles raced towards his room door. And was hit square in the face when the door flew open.

* * *

Rona looked across to her fellow Slayer laid on their room's other bed. "You heard that?" 

"The glass breaking?" her best friend nodded as they both bounded to their feet. "You check on Giles, I'll see to Faith and Xander."

"K," Rona nodded before hurrying to the door.

Vi cursed as she entered the corridor and turned towards Faith's room only to see half a dozen armed men charging up the stairs. She dropped into a forward roll that took her to the landing linen cupboard. Springing to her feet behind the heavy wooden furniture, she lifted it away from the wall, turned, and flung it over the ornate railing. She grinned as she watched the makeshift missile crash into the troops, knocking them over like bowling pins, the sound of their shattering bones and pained screams sweet music to her ears.

* * *

"You broke my bloody nose!" Giles glared up from his knelt position on the ground, blood dripping down his face. 

The black Slayer stood in the open doorway pouted. "I was coming to see if you needed help!"

"I was fine! Was," he muttered as the dread-locked Slayer dragged him to his feet.

"Maybe you should add a section to The Slayer's Handbook about checking for hidden Watchers before kicking in doors."

"Yes Faith," he shifted his glare to the newly arrived denim-clad Bostonian stood smirking behind Rona. "Very amusing." Secretly he was pleased to see something of the old swagger back in Faith. "Is anyone hurt?"

"Just them. What's the plan Xan?"

Giles was briefly surprised and hurt that he'd been supplanted as group leader. Comforting himself that at least it meant the former convict was listening to someone, and that it aided him with his long-term plans, he listened to his son's reply. "Down the fire escape and to the SUV." Xander paused. "That's why I said park the car four blocks away. If our cover was blown they'd be less likely to also find and either sabotage or bug it."

"And we go to another hotel?" Vi asked.

"No," Xander shook his head. "We'll drive for a while and park up somewhere and sleep."

"Oh joy," Giles muttered.

"What's up Tweedy?" Faith smirked. "Getting too old to enjoy spending the night with three hotties?"

"Hardly," Giles bristled at the suggestion before ruefully smiling. "It's just I had the misfortune of spending several weeks sharing a room after Sunnydale with Xander and his snoring is no-one's idea of fun."

"Hey!"

* * *

Connor glided soundlessly through Rome's hushed streets, a somewhat less stealthy Dawn clinging to his hand, an experience that he silently admitted had its attractions. He stopped, his sudden halt causing his companion to bump into him. "At least tell me when you're going to stop!" Dawn hissed in his ear. 

Ignoring the girl's admonishments, he wondered idly if this was what his dad had gone through when dating her sister, he looked around, his senses tingling. "Vampires near-by," he whispered.

"Where?" Dawn's heart began to pound.

"Oh," Connor's mouth dried when a tall straggly-haired vampire stepped out of the shadows, followed quickly by another ten or so of his kind. "I think you'll find we're near-by." The demon morphed into his true face. "Kill the boy, and," the monster smiled, "after we've played with the girl, our orders are to kill her too."


	10. 10

**FIC: A New World (10?)**

Connor reacted instantly. His free hand snatched Dawn's newly bought sports bag off her and flung it at the lead vampire. The packed bag crashed into the unprepared demon's face, knocking him to the ground, and leaving a gap in the ring of vampires surrounding them. Taking advantage of the slight opportunity offered to them, Connor pulled Dawn through the gap, expertly staking the stunned demons to the left and right of the space as he went.

They'd barely got thirty yards when the vampires' leader reacted. "Get them!"

"Faster!" Connor ordered as they sped around a corner, the demons in hot pursuit.

"I can't," Dawn gasped. "Leave me."

"Not going to happen!" Connor retorted, his heart sinking even as he spoke. On his own he could probably escape, but with Dawn accompanying him he didn't have a chance. He spun round a corner only to stop in his tracks when faced by a nine foot tall brick wall. He spun round to the alley opening. "Dawn, get over the wall. I'll hold them off."

"No," Dawn's voice trembled. "I left Buffy, I'm never running again."

"How noble," the group's leader mocked as he led his remaining companions into the alley. "It makes me all-."

"Six words and I can't stand you already." A cold voice cut in from behind the massed demons. "However, you I'm going to let live. At least until you've answered some questions."

* * *

"Who the fuck are you?"

Angel stared at the demon before replying. Upon arriving at his son's last hotel room he'd tracked him across the ancient city by scent. "They used to call me Angelus," he shrugged. "But I prefer Angel these days." His smile broadened at the other vampires' alarmed faces. Sometimes it felt good to be feared. "Illyria don't kill that one," he nodded towards the demons' apparent leader. "I'd really like to talk to him."

"Understood." The goddess nodded before charging forward and driving her fist through the nearest vamp's chest. "But the others?"

"Oh," he blocked a straight right on his forearm before retaliating with a butt to the face and a knee to the groin. "I'm leaning towards," he thrust a stake through his adversary's heart, "killing them all."

"Excellent." Illyria tore another demon's head off.

Angel side thrust kicked a vampire in the stomach doubling it up and leaving it open to a stake through the back. Seeing his son moving into the fray, he called out. "No Connor!" he stepped inside a right hook to his body before cracking an uppercut into his rival's jaw, staggering him. "Your priority is Dawn, stay with her!"

Another demon grabbed him from behind in a half-nelson. Reacting instantly, he dropped to his knees, snapping out a heel that caught the demon on his shin, sending him stumbling backwards even as Angel rolled to his feet. His rival roared furiously before charging him. At the last second he side-stepped the on-rushing demon, leaving his stake behind for his adversary to run onto.

Angel spun around to face his next opponent only to find all the vampires bar the leader were dust. He glanced at Illyria to check that she had the vampire restrained before turning to Dawn. "They killed her!" the youngster's face hit him in the chest as the sobbing girl ran into him. "They killed Buffy."

"I know Dawn." Pushing aside his own sense of loss, he embraced the girl. "But you're safe now, we won't let anyone hurt you." He was vaguely amused to catch the faintest scent of jealousy from his son when he hugged Dawn. Obviously Connor also had a thing for Summers women. Like father, like son.

"What do you wish to do with this half-breed?" asked Illyria.

"Yeah," Angel gently guided Dawn back to Connor before turning to regard the vampire, his eyes flickering golden. Memories of Angelus' last stay in Italy assaulted him, making him sick to his stomach but also giving him an idea. "We passed a church two streets back, let's head there."

* * *

"I understand you have disappointing news?"

Agent F swallowed at his superior's disapproving tone. "Yes sir," he shuffled nervously. "The extraction team failed to capture her or injure any of her companions. Seven of our agents were killed and four injured."

The older man waved away that piece of information as if it was unimportant. "And we've had no further sightings?"

"No sir," he shook his head.

"OH BUGGER!" His boss surged to his feet. "I need that little slapper to control the Slayer Line!" After a second the red-faced man slumped back in his chair. "And I understand a WH plane was hijacked?"

"Yes sir. We're not sure who-."

"I am," his boss snorted. "Angel. Who else would have the balls to steal from Wolfram Hart. The only question remains was he alone or accompanied. And how goes Stage 2 of our operation?"

Thrown by the sudden change of subject it took him a few seconds to regain his focus. "We should have preliminary reports by tomorrow."

"Good." The older man's glare froze his blood. "I do hope those are rather more satisfactory."

* * *

"I'm leaving on a jet plane. Don't know when I'll be back again."

Faith glanced at her singing companion with mixture of amusement and irritation. "You seem awfully cheerful X," she commented.

"Just an act Faith," Xander replied. "I hate flying. Just singing to myself to keep distracted."

Faith nodded. "Know what you mean X. I hate giving away control too." She guessed that came from her abusive childhood. Ever since she'd been called she'd revelled in the control being a Slayer had given her. Being in prison, having to take orders, had been wicked tough but at least if any prisoner or guard had tried to take liberties she'd had her powers to fall back on. But if a pilot fucked up or the plane broke down, her powers wouldn't help her.

Resisting the urge to shudder as thoughts of fiery death assaulted her, Faith turned back to her companion. "Xan," she smirked. "I've got a wicked way of keeping you distracted."

"Oh yeah?" Xander raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"Try picturing me in one of those stewardesses' outfits." Her chuckles at Xander's reddening died as she considered their next move. Italy, Fang, and Dawn next. Maybe they'd get some answers there. God she hoped so.

* * *

Angel's demon cowered as Illyria tore the church's double doors open. Ignoring its' whimperings, he turned to Connor and Dawn. "Stay in the porch," he ordered. Seeing Connor's mouth opened in protest, he interrupted. "Neither of you need to see this. Only come in if there's trouble. Okay?" his son nodded reluctantly. "Good." He smiled at Dawn. "We'll just be a couple of minutes."

His face morphed into its demonic visage as he followed Illyria and their wailing captive into the church's nave. "I'll tell you – arh!"

He back-handed the vampire to the ground and quickly placed his heel on his fellow demon's throat. "I know you will," he replied. "Problem is," you might be lying. Unless you're given an incentive." He looked around. "Illyria, get me those crosses off the altar will you?"

"I do not follow your orders half-breed. I am a god!"

Angel counted to ten as he shot the blue-haired woman an irritated glance. How Wes put up with her he had no idea. "I can't pick them up can I?"

Illyria nodded. "Very well, I will do it."

"Thank you," he turned to the demon struggling under-foot. "Women eh?" His smile disappeared. "Which brings us to Angelus' last Italian visit. I was building an army of vampires to take out the local underworld boss. I always was an ambitious vampire. So," he shrugged. "I turned this bare-knuckles fighter, good-looking and he knew it. You know how it is. Although," he looked down at his less than handsome captive and grimaced, "maybe you don't. Anyway, back to the story. I found this bastard in bed with my Darla." Angel shook his head. "Now I'm an easy-going vampire, but there's some things you can't let slide."

"You talk too much," commented the goddess as she returned holding a pair of ornate silver crosses.

Angel forced a smile at Illyria's comment. Oh yeah, Wes definitely had the patience of a saint. "Just setting the scene. So, as I was saying, an example had to be made. Anyhow," Angel looked around. "I broke into a church a lot like this one and had my minions nail him to a cross." He glanced at his blue-haired companion. "If you wouldn't mind?"

He'd barely finished speaking when Illyria had the vampire pinned against the cross at the front of the church, smoke coming out of its back as it screamed. Another half-second and the blue-haired woman had shoved the crosses through the shrieking demon's palms, nailing him there.

Ignoring his own queasiness at the demon's screams and stench of its burning flesh, Angel strode over to the front pew and tore one of its legs off. "After that, we emptied the font of its water, tore the cross off from the wall, and threw it and the demon fixed to it into the back of a cart. We took it back to our hiding place, threw him out in the grounds, poured the holy water on him, and watched him scream until sunrise. 'Course I'm not going to let you live, but I can make your death fast," he raised his makeshift stake. "Or slow. But it depends on you answering a question?"

"Anything!" the vampire screamed.

Angel walked until he was just inches from the prisoner. "Who ordered you to hunt Dawn down?"

"The Immortal! It was the Immortal!"


	11. 11

**FIC: A New World (11?)**

"I..it makes sense."

Angel stared at Dawn. The young woman hadn't spoken since they'd left the church and walked the seven streets to the nearest hotel, a less than impressive establishment, its only apparent attribute being its seclusion. "What makes sense Dawn?" he softly prompted.

The teen glanced up at him, the lost look in her pool-like eyes heartbreaking. "I…I hadn't thought of this before, but the vampires weren't invited into our apartment, they just burst in. The Immortal owned the building, he must have invited them."

He felt Angelus roar from within him as Dawn collapsed into his arms, huge sobs wracking her lithe body. Angel glanced over the girl's slender shoulders to see Connor staring on, an uncomfortable look on his face, and Illyira staring back with her usual superior expression. Taking an unneeded breath, he leaned down and muttered empty words of comfort into the brunette's ear. Eventually the Californian's sobs subsided and she pulled away. "S..sorry."

He smiled down at Dawn. "It's okay," he took the girl by her elbow and sat her down on the side of the bed. Taking Dawn's hands in his, he crouched down in front of her. "Dawn," he hesitated before deciding to start with some good news. "I got a phone call from Xander, he and Giles should be here tomorrow." He hid a wince at Dawn's wan smile, hating to have to crush her burgeoning optimism. "The Watchers' Keep was hit by a rocket." Dawn's mouth dropped open and she let out a strangled gasp. "Xander, Giles, Faith, and two other Slayers were outside at the time. But," he licked his lips, his demon laughing inside, "everybody else was killed."

"No," Dawn whispered.

Angel swallowed before continuing. "Xander hasn't been able to contact Willow," Dawn's eyes widened in horror. "I'm afraid we think she's been killed too."

"NOO!" the teen fell forward, tears streaming down her face. He held her, unable to say anything to ease the pain.

* * *

Connor looked around the busy airport, his nerves jangling, his father having sent him there to meet Faith and her companions. Connor scowled, he understood that the legendary vampire couldn't very well leave their hotel during the blazing hot Italian day. What he didn't like was Angel deciding he needed a baby-sitter and sending Illyria to accompany him. 

Just looking at the former Winifred Burkle set his teeth on edge. He remembered how the shy Texan had mothered him the summer he'd betrayed Angel. It wasn't right the way she'd been possessed by a god. And the way she barked out orders was even worse.

His mood brightened when he spotted Faith striding through the crowded airport like she owned it, flanked by a pair of girls who moved like warriors. But her male companions, Connor resisted the urge to shake his head as he moved towards the Bostonian, an old man and a Pillsbury Dough Boy. Hardly what they needed. Now more than ever he missed Wes and Gunn.

"Hi Faith." Forcing a smile he offered the curvy brunette his hand.

"Hiya Memory-Boy," the Slayer's friendly wink and throaty tone caused him to redden slightly. "Your pa, copasetic?" Too flustered to speak, he simply nodded. "How ya doing Texas?"

"Why I'm just peachy keen Faith." It was creepy the way Illyria could transform back to Fred. It was really handy, allowing her pass as unnoticed as it was possible for a beautiful woman to do so in public, but it still made his skin crawl.

"Wicked, Connor. This is Xander," the east coast native nodded towards the fat man who answered with a friendly smile. "The oldster's Giles, the red-head babe's Vi, and the dread-locked honey's Rona. Guys, this is Connor, Angel's son, and that's Fred, a regular little brainiac who worked for Angel." The sultry Bostonian raised an eyebrow. "We heading to the hotel now?"

"Yesh," Connor nodded. "Follow me."

He inwardly bristled as he over-heard Xander's comment to Faith. "You know Deadboy the Younger fancies the pants off you?"

Faith chuckled. "Course I do. He's a male ain't he?"

* * *

"I don't see what use Xander and Giles can be!" Connor exclaimed. "Xander's a fat ass buffoon and Giles is a stuffy old man." 

Angel resisted the urge to groan. Clearly his son had been saving this outburst the half hour it had taken him to drive back from picking the newcomers up. "You shouldn't be so quick to judge," he wearily rubbed his forehead. How did Xander manage to rub so many people up the wrong way so quickly? Oh yeah, by breathing. "Xander's been a pain in the arse ever since I've known him. But you know the most irritating thing about him?" Seeing his son's mouth open, he waved him to silence. "He was right. He was right to distrust me, my motives, right for thinking the only reason I was there was for Buffy, that I otherwise didn't care." It was different now, Cordy, Doyle, and the others had changed him, but he somehow doubted Xander would ever see it that way. And that saddened him more than he'd imagined. "As for his jackass exterior, yeah it's true. But you hurt or threaten one of his friends and, let's just say an extended stay in Quor'Toth is preferable to having Xander come after you."

"As for Giles," Angel paused as unwanted memories flooded over him. "There was a time I respected him more than any man I've ever met. He's tough, smart, but also the sort of father I'd also hoped I'd be." As opposed to the tyrannical bastard who'd raised him. "But then Angelus rose and he killed the love of Giles' life. In retaliation, Giles, alone mind, walked into my base and faced me, Spike, and Drusilla." Connor's eyes widened. "Giles is not a man to cross, he's a lot like Holtz in that respect. Give them a chance."

* * *

"Your hair looks good Dawnie," Xander began for want of anything to say. 

The brunette began to shake. "They killed her."

"I know Dawnie, I know." Xander was helpless to do anything but hold the trembling girl in his arms. He kissed her on the forehead. "We'll look after you."

"God," the brunette choked back a sob. "When she was here she was such a pain. But now," the girl's cheers began to freely flow. "Now, I miss her so much."

"Hey, hey," he gently rocked the teen he regarded as his little sister from side to side. "That's right. Let it out," he prompted softly.

After a couple of minutes, Dawn looked up at him, a wan smile on her face. "Seems all I do these days is cry."

"Hey," he stroked the young woman's newly-short hair. "That's okay."

"No," Dawn shook her head, a familiar determined look entering her bloodshot eyes. "I've cried enough. Now we've got to concentrate on getting even. Grieve later."

Xander smiled and nodded. That pretty much mirrored his own thoughts. Losing Buffy, but especially Willow, hurt like hell, but at least this time he had an enemy to focus on, take away the immediacy of his pain. Unlike with Anya. "Good girl." He started to stand.

"X…Xander," he looked down to the suddenly pensive-looking former key. "After this is all over, c…can I live with y…you?"

Xander's remaining eye widened, his mind filling with a ton of conflicting arguments. On the one hand, he'd already offered to be Faith's Watcher. On the other, it would be what Buffy would want. But Dawn loathed Faith with the sort of fiery passion that was reserved for a fallen idol. And it wasn't like Giles wouldn't give Dawn a good home. But she wanted to be with him, he couldn't just reject her. "I'd like that a lot but," he nervously licked his lips. "I've already promised to be Faith's Watcher after all this is over."

"Oh," Dawn stared at him. "I….I could help. I'm good at the languages and research."

"That's be great," Xander hesitated. "But Buffy wouldn't want -."

"I don't care," Dawn shook her head. "I just want to help people like she did."

"Okay," Xander nodded even as he groaned inwardly. Oh boy, as if his life wasn't complicated enough. Faith had reformed – right?

* * *

Angel stared at the girl he regarded as his younger sister, struggling for the words to comfort her. In the end he settled for the blandly sincere. "I'm sorry for your loss." 

He raised his arms offering a hug only for the Bostonian to smile weakly and wave him away. "No thanks Fang, don't wanna risk that damn happiness clause of yours by having a mega-babe in your arms. God knows it was a pain in the ass putting your soul back in the last-," Faith shook her head. "Oh crap I forgot about Re-," Faith looked down at the ground, "me and my big mouth."

"It's okay," Angel soothed as he inspected the brunette, noting the paleness of her complexion and the strain of her face. "How are you feeling?"

Faith's cupid-shaped bottom lip quivered momentarily and the woman took a rattling breath. "Like my heart's been torn out. Ya know?"

"I know," he nodded. And the hell of it was that he did. When Buffy had died for the second time, or Cordelia after her coma, he'd been destroyed. But at least he'd had his friends to cushion the blow. Faith believed she didn't have anything and despite her carefully-constructed armour he guessed she was slowly falling apart. "When this is over, there's a place on my team."

"Thanks Fang." He was surprised when the sultry beauty shook her head. "But X has kinda offered to be my Watcher. And I'm sorta thinking of maybe taking him up on the offer, take a chance to get to know him."

"Good."

Faith blinked. "Good? But you hate him!"

"We don't get on," he admitted with a shrug. Although hate, at least on his side, was a little strong. "But if he thinks of you as a friend he'll crawl over broken glass. You couldn't do much better."

"Yeah," Faith nodded and stared at him for a second before continuing, a flinty look entering her chocolate-brown eyes. "So this Immortal, you got a plan for dealing with this fucker?"

* * *

"Fascinating." Connor shuffled on the spot, uncomfortable at the way the former librarian was staring at him like he was a scientist examining an especially intriguing experiment or lab specimen. "The son of two vampires, I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes." 

"Uh, yeah." Well this was embarrassing, especially with the two giggling Slayer stood behind the grey-haired Watcher.

"And how does your heritage manifest itself?"

"Uh?" he might be a college student but he was starting to think you needed a decoder ring to understand the middle-aged man.

"He asked how are you different from normals?" translated the dread-locked girl, he seemed to remember her name was Rona.

"Oh, well... I guess I kinda got some standard vampire traits. You know, enhanced senses, faster reactions, far stronger than normal humans, quicker healing... the usual I guess. Though I'm not quite as strong as a Master vampire... well, my da-,. Angel anyway. " He glanced at the two Slayers and hurriedly added. "But completely human other than that. Pulse, heartbeat, require oxygen... the whole works."

"Astounding, I'm given to understand that technically you're not quite three yet?"

"Can't wait until he's full grown, yummy."

Although Connor felt his cheeks flame, it as if his interrogator hadn't heard Vi's whisper. "I was kidnapped by Daniel Holtz when I was just a few weeks old and raised by him in Quor'Toth."

Now Giles' scholarly expression was replaced by one of astonishment. "Daniel Holtz, the legendary 18th century vampire hunter upon which Stoker based much of his mythos?" he nodded. "Amazing. And have you yourself slain any major demons?"

"One, Sarjhan."

"The time-shifting demon?" he nodded again, he seemed to be doing a lot of that. The Englishman beamed. "Most impressive. Now how exactly did you slay him?"

Connor sighed. This was going to take a long time.


	12. 12

**FIC: A New World (12?)**

"I understand you have the preliminary stage 2 reports?" Agent F nodded, his commander beamed. "Please, continue."

"Hundred and twelve of our targets were killed, forty-five taken into custody, and twenty-seven missing."

"Um," his leader scowled for a second before shrugging. "Twenty-five per-cent of our targets taken. Given our rivals' calibre and general attitude, that's acceptable. How many of our units did they account for?"

"Eight hundred and twenty-nine." Almost their entire force.

He was surprised when his leader didn't fly off the handle at the news. Instead he smiled. "Ah well, never mind. Once we have Martin under control we'll have a whole new and far more effective army. Any news on the whereabouts of any of our priorities?"

For a second he was so shocked by his superior's reaction he was too stunned to reply. "The missing W&H jet has been located with its now deceased pilot in Italy," he eventually reported.

"Um," his leader looked thoughtful. "That doesn't quite tally with the actions of the ensoulled Angel; he's far too queasy for that. Perhaps William the Bloody also survived. Why do you think he went to Italy?"

"Perhaps Dawn Summers managed to get a message out to him?"

His boss nodded. "That is certainly a possibility."

"Should we warn the Immortal?" he queried.

After a moment's consideration, his superior shook his head. "There's nothing to link him to the Summers girl's death. And if by some fluke they find the connection," his superior shrugged. "He has his own security. If he's taken. He knows little."

* * *

"No! A million times no!" Xander's solitary eye bulged. "In the history of bad ideas this is the worst I've ever heard!" 

"That's a maybe then? Angel asked.

Xander glared at the smirking vampire. "Deadboy smiling! He's evil! Faith, stake him!"

"One-eye is quite right," interjected Illyria. "Such a plan is dishonourable. Skulking around in dark. We should storm this den of iniquity and take this Immortal vermin, make him beg to spill his secrets together with his entrails!"

Xander gaped at the Old One. "Okay, correction. There are worse plans than Deadboy's."

The former Scourge sighed long-sufferingly. If nothing else he had to admire the Irish demon's patience. 'Course when dealing with a being who could take on Angel, Faith, and Connor without breaking a sweat, he guessed the vampire didn't have much choice. "That wouldn't work," Deadboy explained. "The Immortal is heavily protected wherever he goes. If we attempted to take him by force, he could easily escape. Worse still, innocents could be injured in the melee."

"Why can't we kidnap him at his home?" Dawn put in.

"Now there's a plan!" Xander enthused. "I like that idea!"

"No one knows where he lives," Angel's words quashed his floundering hope. "Or even where he's going to turn up next. Except every Friday night he goes to his favourite nightclub, a club he owns, and picks up a girl for the weekend. You accompany Faith to the club, she catches his eye-."

"How can you be sure she will?"

"You still got one eye right Xan?"

"Fine," he waved his hand at Faith's smirk. "I withdraw the question in favour of keeping my limbs."

Angel continued. "The Immortal asks her over, you have an argument, and his bodyguards throw you out. You head back to us and Faith gets him to take her back to his place. We track her using electronics surveillance. When they reach his mansion, she notifies us -."

Again Xander interrupted. "Okay, but were are we getting this bugging equipment from?"

"Ah," Giles stepped forward. "That's where I come in. A friend of mine works in the electronics business. I've already sent for the equipment, it should be here tomorrow."

Xander scowled at the treacherous Englishman; he swore it was a conspiracy. "Okay," Xander hesitated. "Not to get all schoolyard, but why me? You're," he nodded towards Angel, "a way better fighter and fit in better with the jet-set than me."

Angel nodded. "True. But the Immortal and Angelus had a run-in back in the day. Even without the club's vampire detectors he's bound to recognise me."

"You sure got around didn't you?" Xander shook his head. "So why don't you," he pointed towards the two younger Slayers flanking Connor, "go with Faith. Like a threesome?" He grinned suddenly. "Now there's a picture I'd savour."

"Me too, ow!" Connor rubbed at the back of his head where the two junior Slayers had simultaneously slapped him. "Just sayin'."

After shooting his son an amused glance, Angel turned back to him. "We have no idea what security he has at his home. We might need as many of our best fighters as possible to get through the outer security."

"I guess that makes sense," Xander admitted. "But while I doubt I'm high on the list of our enemy's Most Wanted, I do kinda stand out."

"Fuck Xand!" Faith exploded. "Get with the program! If you're gonna be my Watcher you're gonna have to gro-."

"You've offered to be Faith's Watcher?" G-Man interrupted.

"You gotta problem with that?" Faith's eyes flared as she turned to the Council Head. "Not good enough for him!"

"On the contrary," Giles raised his hands placatingly. "I'm sure you'll make a magnificent team."

"Oh," Faith turned back to him, her eyes still blazing. Xander resisted the urge to sigh. He could well understand Faith's anger at the world, he'd gone through it after Anya's death, add in her residual bitterness at her mistreatment during her first run in Sunnydale, and you had quite a turbulent cocktail. But it wasn't helping matters any. "Yeah," Faith glanced at the Englishman again before turning back towards him. "Fang thought of that. We could both be recognised, so I'm having my hair braided," Faith's grimace told him what she thought of that idea. "I'm putting in grey contacts and covering my tat."

"And that's it?" Sounded thin to him.

"Not quite."

Faith's smirk told him she had a hell of a surprise planned. Good or bad, well he'd have to wait and see. He shuddered inwardly at the terrifying prospect of a Faith planned surprise. "What about me?"

The Slayer circled around him, like a lioness stalked her prey. "I figure a crew-cut, a stud in your ear," Xander's eye widened. "Some clothes bought by Angel instead of your usual crap." His mouth opened in protest. "Oh and your hair – bleached red I think." Xander groaned, this was a world of bad.

"What do ya think?"

Xander's mouth opened and closed several times at the wondrous sight before him before finally managing to speak. "W…wow."

* * *

"Wow?" Faith's eyebrow rose slightly and her curved lips parted in a crooked smile. "I get dressed up special for you and the best you can come up with is wow? Frankly I'm insulted." 

"Try this, you look like a billion dollars," he said, meaning every word. Even with her hair braided, her lips peach instead of their usual cherry red, and the contacts making her eyes a smoky grey instead of their usual soulful brown she was still Faith. But a Faith he'd never seen or even dreamt of seeing.

The Bostonian was dressed in a full length black sequined cocktail dress that clung to her curvy body like a second skin. Slits on either side ran down from the waist to the ground, giving tantalising glimpses of the east coast native's long, slender legs. The dress was sleeveless and backless revealing the muscular definition in her arms and lats while the plunging neckline stopped mid-way between her ample breasts where a gold crucifix hung. The ensemble was completed by a simple sliver chain fastened around her slender waist.

Faith grinned. "That's more like it X." The Slayer gave him an appraising look. "Vi did a good job with the make-up."

"Yeah," Xander touched the jagged scar Vi had cosmetically added. It tan from the bottom of his eye-patch to his jaw, using the skills Vi's mother, a former theatre make-up artist, had taught her. "I feel ridiculous."

"Well you don't look bad. Although."

"Although what?"

Faith sauntered towards him, patting his paunch. "You need to lose about thirty pounds if you want to be my Watcher. Can't have a fat-ass as my Watcher, matter of pride."

"Thirty pounds!" Xander knew he'd put some weight on over the last year, but thirty pounds? "I've only put on an extra twenty!"

"Hate to break it you X, but weren't exactly a lean mean machine before this." The mirth left the brunette's eyes. "I really don't wanna do this," the Slayer admitted. "It's like cheating on Woodie."

"You don't have to."

"No," Faith shook her head, a determined glint entering her eyes. "This is our first chance to get a lead on these bastards. Come on, the limo's waiting."


	13. 13

**FIC: A New World (13?)**

Xander nodded approvingly as he followed Faith into the back of the stretch limo. He noted the sumptuous leather seating, the ice bucket complete with champagne bottle, and the CD player playing gentle mood music through the car's state of the art music system. This was the way to treat a girl.

The way he'd have treated Anya if he'd had the opportunity.

Forcing aside his souring mood, Xander leaned forward and pushed aside the panel in the partion separating him and Faith from their chauffer. "Drive on Parker," he instructed.

"And does," G-Man glared back at him, the chauffeur's peaked cap resting uncomfortably on the Englishman's head, "that make you Lady Penelope?"

"Tsk, tsk," Xander shook his head, secretly enjoying the older man's discomfort. "Can't get good help these days." The Council head had gone postal when Deadboy had mentioned that part of his plan included Giles acting as their chauffer. To Deadboy's credit he'd taken Giles' outburst in his stride, pointing out that he and Faith needed to project a certain image and turning up in a taxi wouldn't cut it. Then Captain HairGel countered Giles' demand as to why it had to be him by pointing out that the Immortal might recognise him, Connor was too young to convincingly play the role, and in machismo-filled Italy female chauffeurs would stand out, leaving the Englishman as the only viable candidate.

"You okay X?"

He started at Faith's whisper in his ear. "I'm just a little tense," he admitted. After a breath, he closed the partion and sat back.

"Don't be," Faith smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "It'll work out."

"Yeah," Xander hesitated. Deciding to take an opportunity offered by the privacy, he brought up a thorny subject that had been troubling him since the attack on the Council. "You should ease up on G-Man."

Her eyes hardening, Faith pulled her hand away, leaving him with a surprising sense of loss. "Why the fuck should I?" the Bostonian almost snarled.

Xander hid a wince at the Slayer's ferocity. "Because he's lost people too. Two girls who were like daughters -."

"Yeah," if anything the east coast Slayer's tone chilled still further. "Wouldn't know much about that, seeing as he never treated me as any better than the shit off his shoe."

Xander leaned back against his seat. Ah, there was the rub. When she had Wood Faith had been happy, able to ignore her justifiable resentment towards them. But with the former Sunnydale Principal gone, those feelings had returned with a vengeance. "Just give him another chance," he pleaded.

"Why the hell should I?"

"Because it's the right thing to do?" Faith's eyes didn't soften. "Because running on all this anger got you into trouble the first time."

After a second Faith nodded brusquely. "I'll think about it."

Xander grinned; pleased with the grudging acquiescence he'd received. "That's my Slayer."

* * *

Xander gulped as their transport smoothly halted outside the nightclub. "Relax X," Faith elbowed him in the ribs. "Remember it's all about 'tude." 

"Yeah," Xander muttered in reply. "Shame I don't have one."

Faith sighed. "Look X, remember those jocks who used to kick your ass at high school?" He nodded reluctantly; he was hardly likely to forget them. "Make like you're one of them. You're better than everybody else. After all," Faith broke from her coaching to wink at him, "you'll be walking into the joint with the hottest babe in the damn place on your arm."

"Really?" Xander looked around the back of the shadowy limo. "When is she getting here – owww!"

He rubbed at the ear where Faith had just attempted to pull it off at. One eye, one ear missing. They weren't even on the same side, how unlucky could he get? "Not funny," Faith scolded. The brunette looked up at the opening door. "Let's rock 'n' roll."

"Good luck, and be careful."

Xander nodded his thanks to Giles before wrapping a possessive arm around his companion's tiny waist, pulling her towards him. "Oh Luke," the Slayer breathlessly giggled in a most unFaithlike manner. "You're so masterful!" The Bostonian leaned into him, whispering in his ear under the guise of kissing his cheek, her breath hot against his cheek. "Remember X, 'tude."

"Sure." A sneer on his face, Xander strode towards the club entrance, conscious of the glares from those queuing to get into the night-spot. Soon they were at the club's glass double-doors, the portal blocked by a trio of hulking bouncers, two standing over six foot, the third much shorter but even wider across the shoulders and thicker in the chest than his compatriots. "Hi boys!" he smirked at the three mammoths. "You can open the doors and tell everyone who's anyone the party's ready to start because Luke Archer's here!" He threw his head back and whooped enthusiastically while slapping Faith on her well-rounded ass. He winced at the poorly-concealed glower his friend shot him. Maybe he was getting into character a little too much.

"There's a queue sir," the shortest of the three bouncers said in poorly-accented English, a bullet-headed thug only a couple of inches taller than Faith but more than twice her weight. One of the other bouncers, his leering eyes not leaving Faith, leaned over and whispered something in quick-fire Italian into his fellow security guard's ear. After a second, the man nodded and stepped to one side. "Go in."

"You must hate when guys look at you like that?" Xander commented as he safely ushered his partner past the guards and into the club foyer.

"Not as much as when they slap my ass," Faith deadpanned before turning serious. "Like I'm a piece of meat?" The Slayer shrugged. "Got used to guys wondering they could afford a piece years ago. At least now I've got my powers in case some prick starts something."

"Yeah," Xander distracted himself from the matter-of-fact way his companion hinted at her awful past by looking around their new surroundings. "It sure beats the Bronze."

Glittering globes hung from the ceiling, reflecting the strobe lighting that danced around the room. Plush Persian carpet covered the floor, apart from the spacious wood-panelled area in the centre of the bar set aside for dancing. The bar, Xander glanced over to his right, looked to be well-stocked and staffed by bright young things of both genders wearing tight-fitting uniforms of black shorts and crop tops. Even the clientele was of a better class, awkward teenagers replaced by cool European sophisticates dancing to the latest of Euro techno-pop.

Man, he felt out of place.

"Look up there," Faith bellowed in his ear. "In the VIP area. There he is."

Xander glanced up casually. In the balcony area, flanked by a pair of gorillas the twins of the bouncers outside the club and several dotted around it, there sat a fine-featured, slender man who looked to be anywhere from twenty to thirty years his senior, dressed in a custom-made suit. He turned at a nudge in his side to see Faith miming drinking. "What do you want?" he bellowed in an effort to be heard over the club's blaring sound system.

Faith's nose wrinkled. "You know me, I'm a JD girl, but as I'm channelling Queen C right about now, it'll have to be bubbly."

Xander hid a wince. Angel had chipped in some money, but even so, the IDs, hotel rooms, cars, and plane tickets had already eaten considerably into his savings, to the point he could almost hear Anya nagging at him for frivolous spending. Despite that inner voice he didn't mind the expense, just worried that they'd run out before this was over. And the prices in a place like this, Xander took another look at the top-line furnishings and décor, had to be sky-high. Finally he nodded. "Sure."

Taking a breath, he started to push his way through the crowd, ignored the glares and protests he got as he dragged Faith behind him by her wrist. When they arrived at the bar, Faith chuckled in his ear. "Very cro-mag Xan, you getting into the role?"

"Not hardly," Xander grimaced. He was attempting to act as a mixture of Parker Ahams and Percy West, two people he'd always despised. Turning his attention back to the bar, he slammed his fist on the counter. "A bottle of your best champagne!" he roared.

A few minutes later they were sat by the dance area, sipping at the champagne. It tasted great, but then at $500 a bottle it should. Faith looked over his shoulder, a hungry gleam entering her eyes. "Time for stage 2 of the plan."

"Stage 2?"

Faith grinned at him. "What did you think when you first saw me dance?"

"Ah. Gah. Wow. Oh boy. Drool."

"'Xactly," Faith winked. "And so will our target, time to reel him in." The Bostonian grabbed his wrist and yanked him to his feet. "Come on."

"Me." Xander's remaining eye almost popped out of its socket. "I can't dance!"

"You don't have to," Faith looked to be enjoying his discomfort waaay too much. "Think of yourself as a pole dancer's pole."

"Do poles often drool?" Xander felt the blood drain from his face, this sounded bad, very bad. "But-." Any further protests were cut off by the Slayer dragging him onto the dance floor.

The brunette spun around to face him, a smile playing on her full lips. "Put your hands on my waist." After a second he obeyed. The Bostonian's smile widened as she looped her hands around the back of his neck. "Just go with the flow X."

His companion began to sway her slender hips to the pounding beat, the sight hypnotising, as the dress shifted and moved, giving him tantalising glimpses of the Slayer's athletic legs beneath. His mouth dried as the Slayer moved closer, her lithe body grinding against him, still in tune to the music. Finally she turned her back on him. Pressing her butt against his groin, she began to slowly rotate it, making him groan with desire. Anya had never danced like this.

* * *

The Immortal smiled as he watched the braided beauty's mesmerisingly sensual dance. He'd always been of the opinion that the best dancers were the best lovers. And if that was the case, he was in for quite the weekend. He smiled as he turned to his chief bodyguard. "Bring her to me."

* * *

The moment the record ended, Faith turned and stared thoughtfully at him. The Slayer reached up, almost tentatively, and ran a finger up his face before tousling his hair. "X," she muttered. "I think I'm gonna-." He was surprised when Faith crushed her lips to his, easing her tongue into his mouth with practised ease even as she started to massage his shoulders. After a second he began to instinctively respond, working his own tongue into his partner's mouth while wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, and running his fingers through her hair, marvelling at its silkiness. He was disappointed when the brunette pulled away, her expression confused. "Shit, I -." 

"Madam," Xander looked up from his companion to see she was now flanked by a pair of the club's bouncers. "The club's owner would like to meet you."

"Yeah?" After a half-second, the Bostonian's face regained its customary confidence. "Who's he?" the bouncer pointed towards the Immortal. Faith smirked. "Nice," the east coast native turned back to him. "See you stud, I'm moving up to the big leagues."

Remembering his role, Xander scowled. "Hey bitch! I've spent plenty of money on you tonight." Raising a fist, he stepped towards the supernatural warrior but retreated when the bouncers blocked his path. "Fine!" he snarled. "Money-grabbing tramp!" Spinning around, he stormed out of the club and hurried down the street.

"She in?"

He started slightly at the vampire's anxious voice drifting out of the shadows. When was Deadboy going to be fitted with a bell? "She's in," he confirmed. God, he hoped things worked out.


	14. 14

**FIC: A New World (14?)**

"You wanna do a fully body search?" Faith stepped towards the lecherous security guard stationed at the bottom of the balcony steps. "No problem," she pointed towards the balcony. "'Course your boss might be wicked pissed that you got to touch before him. He could be the understanding type." Faith raised her arms to the crucifix position. "What da ya think?"

Even as she spoke, her mind was filled with the kiss she'd shared with Xander. She hadn't meant to do it, she'd just been caught up in the moment, enjoying herself.

God, she was such a slut. Wood hadn't been dead for even a week and she already locking lips with another guy. And the look on X's face when she broke it off. No way he'd want to be her Watcher after that. Fucked up again.

Banished such thoughts from her mind, she glared defiantly at the bodyguard in front of her. Finally the man nodded and stepped aside, allowing her access to the spiral stairwell beyond. After snatching her purse back from the guard who'd searched through it, she started up the stairway, her stomach clenched at the role she was about to play.

* * *

The Immortal's mouth dried as he rose to meet the smoky-eyed goddess swaying into his domain. It had been decades since he'd seen a woman to match her sultry beauty. This weekend was going to be the best for quite some time. "It is a pleasure to meet you," he took the curvy beauty's hand, bent and kissed it. "And pray tell what is your name?" 

"Angela Norton," the brunette raised a finely mascaraed eyebrow. "Thanks for saving me from that jackass."

The Immortal laughed. "It is entirely my pleasure, sweet child."

* * *

Faith seethed inwardly, her skin crawling every time the murdering bastard touched her, her teeth grinding every time he spoke. It was a struggle not to just grab and snap his neck right now. Only the knowledge that doing so would cost them their only lead to those who'd ordered the hit that had resulted in Woodie's death restrained her. 

When she'd been a kid, experiences of the boys at the local high school had left her dreaming of well-dressed, smooth-talking men with fast cars. After all being that they were rich and smart, they had to be classier. Bitter experience as she'd grown older had taught her different, leaving her with the firm belief that all men were bastards.

It was an opinion she'd held until Angel had saved her from self-destructing. Yeah, there were some good ones – Fang, Xan, Gunn, Wes, and Wood accounted for all the good ones she'd ever known. And the Immortal, smooth-talking slime that he was, wasn't likely to join that exclusive list. "Say," she drawled. "This mansion that you been telling me about. How about showing me if it's as wicked as you say?"

"My dear," the Immortal smiled. "What a splendid idea."

"Yeah," Faith replied, the bitterness in her throat almost choking her. "I'm full of 'em."

* * *

Giles glanced up from his perusal of his laptop. "They're on the move," he reported before glaring back down at the computer. He'd sworn never to use one of these bloody things but with Willow's demise, he pushed aside his sorrow, needs must. 

Angel nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

"We're here, Angela." 

"Nice." Faith had to admit she was impressed. The sleaze might be a murdering shit, but he did it in style. He lived on top of a small hill, in a three-storey mansion surrounded by a ten foot stone wall, iron grille gate. It even had its own vineyard. Once they'd driven up to the main doors, the Immortal's bodyguards peeled off to leave them alone, their leering smirks leaving her in no doubt as to how they expected the night to go. Boy, Faith hid a smirk of her own, were they gonna be surprised.

Faith allowed the Immortal to lead her up to the second floor. "And this is my bedroom," her guide half bowed as he opened an oaken door. A low whistle of appreciation escaped her lips as she strode into the room beyond. It was cool, a pretty wicked place.

A four-postered bed took pride of place in the spacious, rush-weaved rug covered room. Satin sheets too, she loved the feel of satin on her body. The walls and ceiling were all mirrors, ensuring that no matter the angle the lovers would see themselves reflected in the act. In the far corner there was a well-stocked bar, by the door there was a Jacuzzi. Yeah, it was the bomb. Just the sort of place she'd have loved spending a few days with Woodie.

Forcing away the tightness in her chest, she turned to her smiling host. "Real classy," she praised before looking around. "I gotta freshen up. Where's the bathroom?"

"Allow me my dear." The Immortal strode across the room and slid one of the mirrors aside. "Through there my sweet. Take your time, I'll be waiting."

"Can hardly wait," Faith replied with all the sincerity of a Wolfram & Hart lawyer. The moment the door closed behind her, she opened her purse and pulled out her make-up box. Pulling out her lipstick she unscrewed the bottom and pulled out the transceiver hidden inside. "Guys, any time now would be good."

* * *

"Let me in there! That little slut owes me!" 

The two men exchanged amused glances at his rant. It was obviously far from the first time a jilted suitor had turned up at the Immortal's estates causing trouble. "I'm sorry sir," the shorter of the two security men spoke in broken English. "But I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Why don't you make me?" Xander challenged with a sneer. The two men stepped towards him.

Just as Deadboy stepped out of the shadows behind them. Even as the men began to turn, the Irish demon grabbed their heads and drove them together, the sounds of their skulls crashing together making Xander wince as the pair fell to the ground. "Eight years and still squeamish?" Angel scoffed.

"Ha, ha," Xander shot the former Scourge an irritated glance before looking at the iron grille gates. "How are we going to get them open Deadboy?"

Angel smirked. "Illyria!"

* * *

Vi leapt onto the top of the wall, balancing on the top for a half-second before somersaulting to the ground to land beside her best friend. Feeling her mobile vibrate against her hip, she pulled it out of her pocket. "Hello?" she whispered. 

"It's Angel, are you in?" Vi was unable to resist a shiver at the vampire's voice. He was a hunk but she couldn't understand Buffy's attraction to him. Her entire being screamed at her to slam a stake through his heart every time she was in a room with him.

Deciding the blonde must have read way too much Anne Rice, she replied curtly. "Heading to the guardhouse now."

"Okay," she could almost hear the Irish vampire's nod. "Give me a call when you're in position."

"Sure," she dropped her phone back into her pocket before turning to Rona. "Let's move out." The two of them hurried through the grounds, darting from cover to cover until they reached the guardhouse some one hundred paces from the back of the main mansion. "How many?"

Rona peeked through the window. "Six beds but only four guards," her friend whispered.

Vi nodded. "Check the back for another exit," she hissed.

Her fellow Slayer disappeared around the back of the one-storey building only to return a couple of minutes later. "Nothing."

"Good." That made it simpler. "You take the right side, I'll do the left." Once they were in position, she glanced across at her African-American counterpart. "You ready?" her friend nodded. After taking a breath, Vi pulled out her mobile and dialled the vampire. "In position."

Thirty seconds later and a klaxon's high-pitched screech filled the air, the shock of it making her wince. A couple of seconds later and the guardhouse door crashed open.

The moment the first guard stepped out of the building, VI grabbed hold of his collar and slammed him headfirst into the doorframe. Even as the thug slumped to the ground she leapt over his falling body, drop-kicking a second hoodlum to the ground before driving a fist into his face, knocking him cold. Looking up she saw Rona had similarly dealt with her rivals. "Let's get inside."

Rona nodded. "Good idea."

* * *

"No Faith!" Swallowing hard, Angel did arguably the bravest thing he'd ever done and raced across the bedroom to grab hold of the homicidally screaming Slayer. He dragged the Bostonian off the crumpled Immortal, noting with some satisfaction that the villain's face was a bloody mess. "Faith!" he yelled into the virulently swearing east coast native's ear. "We need him alive!" 

He was relieved when something close to reason returned to the raven-haired beauty's eyes. "Put me down Fang," she muttered. "I'm cool."

After a second he complied with the young woman's request before turning to the blood-splattered Italian on the bed and wincing. Unless the Immortal knew some heavy duty mages he wouldn't be charming anyone with his Latin lover looks any time soon. Both eyes had been bludgeoned into something resembling misshapen eggs, his once Roman nose was now smash across his face, the blood leaking from it covering the bottom half of his face. And, Angel shuddered, in her insane fury, Faith had torn one of the Italian's ears off. Shades of Mike Tyson.

"Angelus, keep her away from me," the Immortal wailed hysterically.

"Faith," he continued to stare at the trembling man. He somehow guessed the Immortal wouldn't take much softening up. "Go and wait in the hallway with the others. Illyria and I will deal with this -."

"I wanna see what you do to this fucker."

The intensity in the Slayer's voice chilled him to the bone. "You might want to," Angel struggled to keep his tone calm. If Faith went off the deep end, only Illyria would be able to stop her. And then only by using fatal measures. "But you're not going to."

"Fang."

"Deadboy's right," Angel thought that Xander's voice was surprisingly steady considering he was stood next to a pissed off Slayer who in one of her less stellar moments had attempted to kill him. "You shouldn't be here. Not for this."

There was a long pause. "K," Faith looked at him. "Fang-."

"Don't worry," Angel continued to stare at the Immortal. "I'm not feeling merciful." Once the door had closed behind the others he strode over to the Immortal. "Long time no see."

"He is of the Chosen."

"What?" Angel turned to the blue-haired woman. "I'm fairly sure he's not a Slayer."

"No," the Goddess shook her head impatiently. "The Old Ones used to make the most useful of their human servants immortal. He must have discovered the rites and used them for himself."

Angel raised an eyebrow. "That explains a lot. But he's not invulnerable or immune to pain?"

"Of course not," Illyria sneered. "One does not give insects too much power lest they forget their place."

"Good to know." Grabbing the Immortal's hand he twisted it back to breaking point. "Now you can make things easy or hard on yourself."

"You wouldn't," the Immortal sobbed. "Your soul."

"My soul?" Angel allowed her eyes to turn yellow. "My soul is totally at one with this. Because of you one of the two women I've ever loved it dead. Because of your organisation several of my friends are dead. And my demon's just along for the ride. Remember Darla?" the Immortal shrieked as Angel snapped his wrist like a twig. "And there's the proof. Now, talk."

* * *

Faith stared at the floor, her heart clenched and mind racing. She didn't have a problem with what she'd done to the Immortal, the fucker deserved it. But the rage that had consumed her had scared her, reminding her of the bad old days. "You okay?" 

She looked up at Xander, surprised at the very real concern she saw in his single eye. "I kinda lost it in there, uh?"

"Hey," Xander placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'm not going to judge. I've hardly been Mr. Rational have I? It'll take time, but you'll get control again, I trust you."

"Thanks X." Faith smiled. "Means a -." She broke off to see Angel coming out of the bedroom, a dumbfounded expression on his face. "What's the what?"

"The Immortal didn't know much," Angel replied. "Not even who he worked for. But he did tell me who his contact was."

"And?" G moved forward, his eyes gleaming eagerly.

Angel hesitated for another second. "Andrew Wells."


	15. 15

**FIC: A New World (15?)**

"Andrew!" Rona's shout was incredulous. "But that's just dumb!"

"The Immortal's description matched – short, high-pitched voice with delusions of importance," Angel replied, her idol sounded immeasurably tired. "And it fits some facts. They had to have someone placed in the Council. And," the vampire hesitated before looking towards Xander. "Something's been puzzling me. Have you spent much time in Africa this year?"

"What?" her new Watcher sounded confused. "No. I've been," Xander coloured and looked down, "stuck into a bottle most of the year."

"Andrew told Spike you were in Africa." Angel said

"But why would he turn on us?" Xander sounded bewildered. "We took him in after all he did."

"'Cause," Faith found it almost impossible to force the words out. "Of me." Oh god, she'd killed Wood.

"Faith," it was G. "What do you mean?"

"No time," Angel snapped. "We need to get out of here fast. Explosives set?"

Xander tore his eyes away from her face to nod at her mentor. "Yeah."

"Great," her hero grabbed her by her arm, dragging her out of the house. "You can explain back at the house."

"Yeah, that'll be a blast," she muttered, blinking away unshed tears.

* * *

"Faith." They were back at the out-of-the-way villa Xander had hired for them. "Why do you think Andrew betrayed us?" 

Faith swallowed at Angel's question, conscious of every one's gaze on her. Oh god, she'd got them all killed. Gathering her strength, she started to talk.

* * *

"Faith! Faith! Faith!" 

Groaning at the nasal screech behind her, Faith stopped. Quelling the urge to grab its owner by the throat, introduce his head to the wall, and cop a temporary insanity plea, she turned to face the speaker. "Yo Andy," she forced a smile. "What's the sitch?"

She waited for a minute for the fanboy to raise his eyes from her chest, when he didn't she sighed. "Eyes up Andy."

"Uh?" the geek coloured before finally looking into her face. "I was just thinking," Faith smirked; she knew exactly what he'd been thinking about. "We need to talk-."

"No offence Andy, but me and sci-fi don't exactly mix."

"No," the geek shook his head, "I thought as reformed super-villains we have more in common than you might have thought. Maybe we can discuss our battle for redemption."

Faith struggled to contain the conflicting impulses of laughing in the nerd's face and slapping him stupid. How could the stupid bastard could think the best way to pick up a honey was by throwing her past at her? And she might have been easy in the past, but a geek like Andrew? She'd never sunk that low. Settling for a put-down rather than sticking her foot up his ass, she shook her head. "Sorry Andy, but I feel the need to share it'll be with a real man. Come back when you measure up." Still chuckling, she strode off.

* * *

"M…maybe if I'd have thrown him a bone." 

"Faith," she looked up G's firm but kind voice. "You are an exceptionally attractive young lady but I think you give yourself rather too much credit." Faith opened her mouth to reply but the Englishman's next words caused her to clamp her mouth shut. "Besides, I rather think my own actions have had rather more to do with it."

* * *

"One insane Slayer retrieved sir." 

Giles looked at the young man dancing on the spot before his desk. "Thank you Andrew," he glanced at the papers neatly stacked on the desk before him. "Now to your next assignment -."

"Sir," Andrew eagerly interrupted. "Now I've completed yet another mission I was wondering about a promotion, perhaps to the post of your successor."

Giles gaped at the youth. Six months and the blithering idiot thought he was suitable to lead the Council? "I've given some thought to my successor," he winced inwardly at the young man's expectant expression. This was not going to be pretty. "And although I don't plan to retire for some years I have several prospects in mind. Unfortunately though, your former evil-doing past precludes you from consideration." And your general insipidness, he added silently.

The youth's face fell. "B…but I'm reformed!"

Giles nodded. "I know Andrew, but there are certain people on the ruling board would be less than sympathetic." Including himself, although that was due to a lack of the confidence in the boy's competence rather than for any other reason.

* * *

"He thought he could replace Buff as next leader of the Council?" Xander looked incredulous. 

"Actually," G glanced uneasily at Dawn before continuing, "Buffy was the finest fighter I knew but as leader -."

"She stunk." Every one turned in surprise to Dawn who shrugged. "Hey, she was my sister and I loved her but I'm not blind. That last year in Sunnydale she showed us how bad she was. She had the motivational skills of Pol Pot, and the strategic planning ability of General Haig." Dawn shuddered before directing her attention to G. "Who was your choice? Willow?"

Faith was surprised when the Watcher shook his head. "No, Willow's past had shown she can be too easily swayed and her power would make the other Ruling Board members nervous." Faith smirked as G turned to Xan, smart choice. "My favoured choice was Xander."

"What!" The one-eyed Watcher let out a hysterical laugh. "You're nuttier than a newly-souled Spike. I barely speak English, much less than the demonic stu-."

"Xander," Giles interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. "Your shortcomings, as you see them, are trivial details that are quickly overcome. Knowledge of ancient and demonic languages can easily be learned, and even if, as you insist, you are incapable of grasping the basics then it wouldn't be a problem to provide someone to translate them for you. Most watchers have more than adequate abilities in that department before they've even come close to graduating."

"See... you ought to use one of them. They were bred to be Watchers after all, they'd be far more suited to the role," Xan babbled.

Giles shook his head and sighed. "Xander, that's just a skill... what you'd bring to

the role is experience. Take a look around you, no-one in this room outside of

myself and Angel has anywhere near the level of experience you have."

"Yeah, but..."

"And I'd be hard pressed to find anyone outside of this room fighting for our side that has any more either. You've fought alongside Slayers, witches, vampires and werewolves; and you've been doing that for as long as I have. You've fought against just about every type of demon that's visited the hellmouth. I can honestly say that although I've met people who were your superior in terms of knowledge or fighting ability; I've met none who surpass you in dedication."

Xan reddened and looked to the ground. "This last year I was hardly dedic..."

Giles sighed again. "You needed time to grieve, son. Seven years without a rest

would take a toll on anyone, and that's without taking into account what the

battle actually cost you. And what's the first thing you do when you return..? Offer to take on the role of Watcher to the oldest Slayer."

"Senior Slayer," Faith corrected.

"One who you know has a troubled past," Giles glanced over to her, she smiled back at him. "But you don't shy away from that, you accept the responsibility and offer to help her continue her own journey. Tell me again who else I should consider as my eventual replacement?"

Xander shook his head. "I was only offering to be Faith's Watcher, I'm not ready to  
run the Council."

"Not yet, no. And for your information, I'm not quite ready to be thrown on the scrapheap quite yet." Giles continued with a grin. "But the head of the Council is normally chosen from the Watchers with the most experience... something I'm quite sure given a few years with Faith that you'd be more than ready for," the Englishman chuckled. "And probably a few grey hairs too."

"Go for it, Xan," Faith encouraged. "You'd you'd make a kick-ass leader."

"I can't think of anyone better either," Angel put in.

Xander looked around them all. "I'm not promising anything for the moment, well  
nothing more than being Faith's watcher anyway."

"If when it comes to the time you think there's a more suitable candidate then I promise to be more than willing to consider them. But I think anyone's got a hard job to be taken into the running. Anyway you wouldn't be doing it alone. With Buffy's retirement, Faith would have been installed as Senior Slayer, the reputation she'd built for herself in Slaying Kaktosis, helping us stop the Sisterhood, and her sterling work over the past year, her innovation in battle and strength in character in over-coming her difficulties would be a shining example of what could be achieved to the other Slayers." Faith found herself grinning. Strength of character? Shining example? She kinda liked that. "Andrew would have served as the academic expert and Robin, Director of Operations," Faith felt her heart drop at her dead lover's name, "but obviously that will have to change."

"If I studied with you for a couple of years I could handle the academics."

"Of course," Giles beamed at Dawn. "What a splendid idea. You could do a degree at Oxford – 'Ancient Languages and Anthropology'."

Dawn began to pout. "No arguments," Xander said. "Buffy and Joyce would have been so proud of you getting an Oxford degree." Dawn reluctantly nodded.

"Good, now that's settled," Angel broke in. "How do we track Wells down?"

"Yes," Faith shuddered at the gleam that had enter G's eyes. Man, he could be a scary fucker when he wanted. "I've had a few thoughts about that."

* * *

It took an hour or so before the full details of G's plan were worked out. It was completely whacked out in her opinion, but then no one else had come up with anything. Afterwards they'd retired to their respective rooms. 

At least the others had. She'd taken to patrolling their hotel's grounds, ignoring a number of Roman males' attempts to pick her up. "What's wrong?"

She turned at Angel's voice behind her, having sensed the vampire's approach a few seconds earlier. "I….I kissed him."

The demon placed his hands on her shoulders. "Faith, you were playing a role."

"What?" realising what the vampire was thinking, she shook her head and turned to face her mentor. "No, I kissed Xan. God I'm such a slu-."

"Do. Not. Say. It." Angel pressed a finger to her lips, his intensity silencing her. "Listen to me Faith. People react differently to loss. Some lash out, some get depressed, and others seek comfort. At least with Xander, you know he wouldn't take advantage."

"I guess," Faith shrugged. "But me and him are finally connecting. If not for him I might have got off the deep end back in England." She looked down at her feet. "And what do I? Take the first opportunity I get to stick my tongue down his throat." She chuckled bitterly. "The last time we got physical, it ended up with me nearly killing the poor bastard."

"He's forgiven you."

"Yeah," Faith nodded. "But how much?"


	16. Chapter 16

**FIC: A New World (16?)**

"Welcome to Wolfram & Hart." Ilona Costa Bianchi's beaming smile didn't falter when the two men before her didn't answer, the gaze apparently mesmerised by her chest. Instead she took the opportunity to examine her law firm's new clients.

The older of the two men appeared to be in his mid-seventies, his hair was entirely grey, his watery eyes hidden by horn-rimmed glasses, and his right, liver-spotted hand clutching onto a walking cane he stooped over. The younger man was a completely different matter. Medium height with a slender build, the moustached and bespectacled youth was twenty at the most.

Finally the older man spoke, his voice quavering with age. It was times like this when Ilona was most grateful for the anti-aging side benefits of being employed by Wolfram & Hart. "Good day," the ancient took a rattling breath, "dear. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm Jonathan Nelson, and this," he glanced towards the younger man prowling behind him, "is my grandson. Richard Nelson."

"Bella! Bella!" she beamed at her new clients. "And might I ask how you managed to get such rare texts."

The old man smiled, revealing a set of revoltingly yellowed teeth. "I'm sure you've heard of the Immortal's demise."

The Immortal? Ilona's smile widened. The entire Italian demon underworld had been in a complete uproar about the killing of the Immortal and his destruction of his estates. On the other hand Wolfram & Hart were quite ecstatic about having a thorn in their side removed. "Ah," Ilona beamed at the Englishman. "Wonderful. The Immortal," she spat, the book dealer jumped back with an agility that belied his age. "Was a disreputable scoundrel. He will not be missed. And now to business, you have the texts?" the bookseller nodded. "May I take them, just to check they're authentic of course. Not that a man of honour such as yourself would ever try and pass off forgeries," she hurriedly added.

Jonathan Nelson smiled, a gleam in his eyes suggesting the rascal he'd once been. "But of course my dear," the old man slowly turned. "Richard? 'The Prophecies of Dullworth' please?"

The youth passed her the heavy tome. She nodded appreciatively at the teen before turning to his grandfather. After I've run the checks over this, I'll take you to see Bartax. Might I ask why you want to find Mr. Wells?"

The two males exchanged glances before the older Nelson spoke, his tone indignant. "I used to have my business in Sunnydale." Ilona nodded, she was of course aware of the small but once very important California town. "Because of the Hellmouth, the amount of business I did was most satisfactory. But in November 2001, Wells and two of his associates stole some very important texts from me. It took me a while to discover who'd stolen property by which time his accomplices had died and Wells was under the protection of Buffy Summers. But now, with the Council gone I will get the little bastard!"

Ilona nodded. As an Italian, Vendetta was a concept she understood. "I'll just be a few minutes," she promised before exiting.

* * *

"Did you see her chest?" 

Giles shot Connor an irritated look, teenagers and their bloody hormones. "Please Richard," he deliberately kept his voice disapproving. "Walls have ears," a subtle reminder to keep their covers intact. "Have a little decorum." Although the lawyer did have Bristols the size of small nations.

* * *

"X," Faith took a breath before continuing. "Can I come in?" 

"Sure."

Faith grinned as she walked into X's room to find him laid on his bed reading. She snatched the offending item from him and laughed. "You still reading the comics?"

Xander shot her a pained look before grabbing the comic book back. "You wanted something?"

Faith looked around. "Yeah," she licked her lips. "Can I sit down?"

"Be my guest."

"Thanks," she stared at the man for an eternity. God, this was hard. And it wasn't she had much practice at this.

"Faith, today?"

She started at the founding Scooby's voice. "Yeah, sorry. I wanna apologise for all the shit I did to you-."

"It doesn't matter," Xander shook his head. "Past is p-."

"Damn it!" she exclaimed. "I've been wanting to do this for over three years! Just let me do it, k?"

Xander blinked at her explosion. "Sure," a smile tugged at her new Watcher's lips, "seeing as you asked so nicely."

She glared at the man, his grin widened. Faith had to resist the urge to shake her head, most people ran for the hills when she glared, X thought it was funny. "When I hit Sunnyd, I had you figured. You were a guy and I was Faith, so all you wanted from me was to get me on my back. Then that night you came to see about Finch," the deputy mayor's name stuck in her throat for a second before clearing. "I thought fuck it. I've let guys use me all my life, I've got the power why the fuck should I let them use me any more?"

"I wasn't -."

She continued over Xander's protests. "First six months inside I didn't give you a second thought – Finch, Worth, trying to kill Angel and B, they haunted me, but you, nothing. Then I was in the shower -."

"And suddenly I'm a lot more interested."

Faith ignored Xander's muttered comment. "This girl in my crew was going on about her bro, how he was visiting her. How he'd promised her a home and a job in his company when she made parole, what a great guy he was. Then it hit me. That was you'd been offering me that, to be there for me, but I'd been too dumb to realise." Faith chuckled at the bitter memory. "Damn, it was wicked hard to keep my shit together to the end of the shower. If I'd have broken down crying, word would have been out that I was ripe for anyone fixing to take my place as prison boss."

Faith closed her eyes for a second before continuing. "God, I so wanted to say sorry to ya, Wes too, but I figured it wasn't going to happen. 'Cause hello," she shrugged and smiled painfully. "Twenty-five to life. Then I broke out to help Fang, and Red brought me back to Sunnyhell."

"God," she shook her head. "I was so fucking scared. I didn't give a shit about B, me and her were over, she'd always hate me 'cause I was another Slayer and my link to Fang. G," she shrugged, "I'd wanted so much for him to care about me, but now I didn't give a shit. Red, we just hit it off – members of the reformed bitches club, I guess. But you," Faith glanced at Xander. "Fuck, I walked to your room four times that first night, but I couldn't get up the nerve to talk to you. Then everything went down with Caleb and you kinda," her voice trailed off.

"Fell apart?" Xander supplied with a wry grin.

"Well yeah. I tried but you were kinda in the same place I was after Finch." Faith paused, forcing down the lump in her throat. "God, it hurt so much seeing you like that and not being able to help you. So, here it is," she took a rattling breath. "I'm sorry for treating ya like crap after we had sex and for nearly killing you."

"The sex wasn't that bad," she glared at Xander. "Hey, just trying to lighten the mood."

"Don't," she stood, suddenly feeling lighter than she had in years. "Any time, any place I got your back. Five by five?"

"Five by five," Xander smiled. "And sorry for being a jerk to you this past year."

"No prob," she turned to the door, unable to look at the man while she asked the next question. "You ever think what might have been?"

"Actually I spend most of the time wondering if women prisons are really like Caged Heat."

Faith laughed before glancing over her shoulder at the grinning Sunnydaler. "Keep wondering, 'cause I ain't tellin'."

"Come on, another shower story, that's all I'm asking for. What was all that about having my back? You're failing me in my hour of need here..." Faith closed the door on Xander's wheedling, trying but failing to stop a smile from rising.

* * *

Giles looked up as the door swung open and their surgically-enhanced, she bloody had to be, host strode in. "Congratulations sir," the lawyer beamed. "The book you got from the Immortal," the Italian beauty paused to spit. "Is genuine. If you have the other volumes?" 

Giles withheld a grimace as he passed over the other two texts. It rankled with him, to give such unique and priceless texts to such a powerful enemy. Not to mention the risk to him and Connor if their cover was blown. But it was worth it. Never mind Wood, the other Watchers, and Slayers, he'd give his very soul to avenge Buffy and Willow. "Lead the way my dear."

* * *

"The reports are true then?" Agent F nodded. His boss sighed. "It would appear that we've misjudged Angelus and his cohorts' capabilities. Ah, never mind, the Immortal would have to be disposed with at some point. Saves us a job." 

"He could lead them to Wells," Agent F pointed out. Not that he cared, in his opinion the little twerp was more of a hindrance than a help, but he was a security risk.

His boss smiled. "And that is something we can use."

* * *

"We're here." 

Giles swallowed before entering the darkened room. Here was the reason he'd sacrificed his principles and priceless texts for. In the far corner of the room there sat a glowing green blob with luminous red eyes.

The lump was one of W&H's most prized weapons, a Parlax demon. All you had to do was say the name of a person, object, book, whatever, and the monster would tell you in which city in the world what you sought was. The only limitation was the Parlax could only do one location a week. For a second he stared at the demon, the scholar in him wanting to savour this rare opportunity. He produced a photograph to help with the search and spoke. "Where is Andrew Wells?"


	17. Chapter 17

**FIC: A New World (17?)**

"San Diego?" Dawn looked around the faces of her companions. "That's an awfully big city. Couldn't the demon be more specific?"

"I'm afraid the Parlax doesn't work like that," Giles replied. It was an sobering experience to see her surrogate father all done up in make-up, looking twenty-five years older than his actual age, a terrifying reminder that everyone died. Well, she corrected herself with a glance at Angel and Illyria, almost everyone. "But at least it's a start," the Watcher continued. "We have to make a list of likely -."

"No list needed," Xander interrupted, his cheeks reddening. "I know where he'll be. At least I think I do."

"Oh yes?" Giles queried. "Do tell."

* * *

"You have got to be shitting me!" Faith glared at Xander. "Tell me you're jokin'!" 

Xander swallowed at her scowl. "He went to ComicCon in '99, '00, and '01. He missed in 02 on account of Willow. We'd planned to go last year, but in the end," Xander looked down, "in the end he went on his own."

"It's okay Xander."

Faith was shocked by the surge of jealousy that almost over-whelmed her when Dawn squeezed Xander's arm, gaining a half-smile in response. Giving herself a mental shake she regained her focus. "Fine, so he's a major geek. Down with that. But surely he won't go there, not with us after him."

"He doesn't know that we're after him," Angel broke in, his face as inscrutable as ever. "As far he knows we think he's dead, remember?"

Faith nodded. She guessed that made sense. "Well at least he'll be easy to spot. What?" she groaned at Xander's grimace. "Oh come on," she protested. "There can't be more than a few hundred nerds there -."

"They broke fifty thousand visitors in the 2001 convention and its attendance increases every year. This year's Comic Con starts this weekend, he has to be in town for it," Xander replied.

"Ah shit," Faith said. "How the hell are we expected to find one goddamn half-pint in all that?"

"Fifty thousand is a lot less than the entire population of San Diego," Xander pointed out. "Besides," Xander reddened slightly and shrugged, "I know which stands he'll head for."

It took a nerd to catch a nerd, Faith grinned to herself. Then she scowled as another, more troubling, thought occurred. "Say," she glanced around her companions. "Us babes and studs will kinda stand out in a hall filled with spotty nerds. I mean Xan blends right in," she winked at her glowering Watcher. "But the rest he'll see coming a mile off."

"Diplomacy thy name is Faith," Xander paused, a nervous expression on his face. "Plenty of convention goers go in costume, we could go -."

"Oh fuck!" Faith yelled, this was not good.

* * *

"Who am I again?" Faith asked. She felt fucking ridiculous. She supposed she looked hot in her skin-tight blue PVC suit with fur around the edges and collar. But the white wig and black eye mask was stupid shit. 

"The Black Cat," Xander explained. "A former burglar with probability-altering abilities that fell for Spiderman. Rumoured to be a character in Spiderman 3."

"Uh, uh," she nodded. "And who are you anyhow?" she asked as her bud put on a visor to add to his blue jumpsuit.

"Uh," Xander paused, "my char's called Cyclops."

Her Watcher's answer hit her like a thunderbolt. "Fuck X, I'm," she shook her head. "You know I was wicked jealous of B."

Xander sighed. "Faith, past is past."

"No," Faith shook her head. "Not that. I'd gotten over my G and Joyce envy. I was jealous," she laughed, this was so stupid. "Jealous that she got to kill Caleb, I wanted to rip that fucker's head off for what he did to you. Show you that I cared."

"Nothing says I care like a preacher's head on a platter?" Xander queried.

Faith chuckled. "Something like that X. I was wicked pissed when he hurt you, I felt like I'd failed," she shook her head. "I'd come back to Sunnydale to help you guys, within like a day you're down an eye."

"Sorry to have inconvenienced you," Xander muttered.

"But you know I'm with you now?" She smiled at Xander's nod. "So this comic crap, you're a real junkie right?"

"It isn't crap Faith," Xander looked offended. "It's like a whole universe, it's like a mythology for the new millennium."

"Oh yeah," Faith smirked. "Well as part of your duties as my Watcher is to teach me mythologies, right? And this stuff seems more interesting than this old world shit, right? I guess you got a student, if you want one?" she added nervously. She couldn't believe she was talking about this lame-ass stuff.

Xander looked surprised before nodding. "Sounds like fun."

"Wicked cool."

* * *

"Hey Miss! Are you a famous actress!" 

"No hon," Faith forced herself to smile at the umpteenth acne-ridden teen to come up to her and drool down her cleavage while offering her an autograph book to sign. Convention-goers, why wasn't there a demon who hunted them? "I'm just a model hired to publicise Black Cat's appearance in Spiderman 3," she explained, using Xander's cover story.

"Wow," the boy's watery eyes widened. "You're a for real model?"

"Oh yeah," Faith drawled. "Been doing this for years. Say," she grinned as an evil idea occurred to her. "I'm kinda into ner-, smart guys." She quickly wrote down a phone number. "Phone me sometime."

"Really?" The kid's eyes widened still further as he reddened. "Y…you want me to call you?"

Looking at the kid's awestruck expression, Faith was beginning to feel a little bit of a bitch for teasing him. Thinking of it as a little bit of revenge for all the assholes that'd looked at her like she was an object rather than a person, she nodded. "Sure, we'll talk comics," she glanced at her companion. "We got places to be Cyke?"

"You gave him your number?" Xander looked at her in disbelief as they moved off.

"Fuck no," Faith snorted before grinning. "Vi's. She is gonna kill me!"

Xander looked to be struggling to hold back a smile. "You're an evil woman."

"Hell," Faith shot back. "I'm reformed, not a candidate for sainthood." She sobered. "Anything?"

"What?" Xander looked and her and reddened. "I was distracted."

Faith slapped her companion on the back of the head. "Damn it X! Focus!" She growled. "Which geek are you looking at this time?"

"Uh," Xander pointed towards a stand. "Her, and she's not a geek."

Faith nodded in approval as she quickly appraised the PVC clad brunette honey sat signing autographs. "Nice, good eye." She glanced at her companion. "Who is she anyhow?"

"Eliza Dushku," even though Xander had a visor on, Faith knew her Watcher had a glazed look in his eyes. It was the line of drool running from his mouth that gave it away. "She was Missy in Bring It On and Sissy in Jay & Silent Bob."

"Ah," Faith nodded. She knew the films. They didn't show cheerleading films in women's prison, those sort of films increased prisoners' horniness and caused trouble, but she'd seen both films since her release. Bring It On was kinda lame, but anything by Kevin Smith was wicked cool. "Let's get you introduced."

"What?" Xander's head snapped towards her. "Are you nuts? I can't just go up to her."

"Course you can," she started to drag the protesting man towards the table . "It's a Slayer's duty to make sure her Watcher's getting some. Makes him less cranky."

"Faith, no!"

"Don't be a wimp, it's easy ask for her phone number, security gets in the way, I'll beat 'em up."

"I see Andrew!" Xander exclaimed.

"That's lame," Faith scolded. "Be a man!"

"No," Xander pulled away. "I really see him!"

Faith glanced in the direction that her companion was pointing. Sure enough, she saw the runt stood by a stand with a huge '5' on the sign behind it. "Well shit!"

Xander pulled out his mobile. "Connor, Vi, Rona, he's by the Babylon 5 stand."

* * *

Jerry Doyle resisted temptation to reach across the autograph table and throttle the dribbling idiot stood opposite him. For the most part he loved meeting fans, enjoying their pleasure at his work. But he hated the fanboys who couldn't separate reality from fiction. If this twit called him Garibaldi again he wouldn't be responsible for his actions. 

"But," the youth protested in a whinny voice. "Surely you must know how the future of Babylon 5 would have changed if either Sinclar or Lochley had been in charge instead of Sheridan? After all, Garibaldi was closest to the chain of command. And who do you think -." The boy's pasty white face turned even paler and his eyes widened as he noticed something. "Rona!"

Turning, the youth hurried into the crowd. Jerry sighed in relief. "Thank you god," he muttered before looking up at the long line of fans. "Next!" he demanded.

* * *

Andrew wheezed as he ran, his lack of physical conditioning a real problem when running from Slayers, but at least he knew the convention centre like the back of his hand, having been there for the past few conventions. He hoped that would be enough to give him the edge. 

He broke into a smile as he saw the maintenance hatch he'd been searching for. Quickly flipping it open, he climbed inside, pulling the hatch over him before climbing down into the sewer. He grimaced at the stench from his dank surroundings, he started through the sewer, his feet sloshing through the garbage strewn water. Already his razor-sharp mind was making plans. He'd have to contact his boss and tell him the agents of evil were in San -.

"Hello Andrew."

His mouth dropped as the dark avenger himself stepped out of the shadows in front of him. Immediately he began to back away. "A…angel," he stuttered out a greeting.

The vampire nodded. "Andrew." He never saw the fist that smashed into his jaw.

* * *

Angel wrinkled his nose in disgust. He'd ended up being put on sewer duty by Xander, while the others were inside the convention centre. Given his sunlight condition, it made sense, but he couldn't help but wonder if this was Xander's way of getting revenge for sending him into the nightclub with Faith. What sort of man protests about being sent into a nightclub with Faith, anyhow? "Stick the vampire with the ultra-sensitive nose in a sewer, typical Harris. Although," Angel looked down at the crumpled body lying at his feet in the sewer water. He'd wanted to do that ever since the self-important prick had kidnapped Dana from him. "I enjoyed that. Gave me a strange sense of closure." 


	18. Chapter 18

**FIC: A New World (18?)**

"Sir!" Agent F hurried into the briefing room that served as his leader's inner sanctum. "Our men on the ground have reported Agent W has been snatched."

"Excellent," his boss nodded. "And the homing device?"

"Working to specification, sir. We've tracked them to their base." He paused for a second, but after a nervous lick of his lips continued. "Shall we storm them?"

"And risk a humungous body count or worse still, that Martin slapper escaping?" the elderly man shook his head. "I think not."

"But Agent W-."

"It's too late for what Agent W knows to make any difference. He doesn't know who I am or where this base is."

"Yes sir. What's the plan?"

"The plan is we watch and wait until Miss. Martin leaves the base without any of the other super-powered beings and snatch her." The Englishman paused. "And the vampire?"

Agent F couldn't help but shudder. "The behaviour modification chip has been fitted." Even Faith didn't deserve this.

"Excellent!" his leader's lips parted in a death's head smile. "That Martin bitch will serve as an object lesson. Before she dies screaming."

* * *

Andrew groaned as he awoke. His heart stilled when he forced his eyes open to see Mr. Giles, Angel, Faith, and the others surrounding him. "I won't talk, like Leia in 'A New –." 

"Everyone," he swallowed at Giles' cold eyes and hard tone. "Get out."

Angel shook his head. "Giles-."

"Get out of here!" Giles growled at the vampire. After a second the demon shrugged and led the others out.

* * *

Xander looked at Faith. Noting how intensely the Slayer was staring at the room where G-Man was currently interrogating Andrew, he tentatively took a hold of her elbow. The Slayer started slightly at his touch before turning to him. "Hey, X," she greeted before turning back to the door. 

"I'm going shopping," he said "wanna come with?"

Faith shook her head. "Nah, I'll stay here thanks, see what Wells gives up."

"No," he took a firmer grip on the Slayer's arm. "You need some time off, all we've been doing the past week is running and fighting."

Faith scowled. "X, I'm a Slayer, that's what I'm built for. I'm staying."

"Faith, I'm your Watcher and I'm saying you need to relax for a couple of hours. Besides you can't let your poor helpless Watcher go out on his lonesome."

Faith shook her head. "That's a pathetic -."

"He's right," Xander was surprised by Angel's sudden appearance at the other side of Faith and his agreement. "You could do with some time off."

Faith capitulated in the face of their unholy alliance. "Fine," she groused.

"You want to come Dawn?"

Dawn leaned towards Connor and whispered. After a second the last remaining Summers turned to them and shook her head. "I'm going to go out with Connor, and the others."

"Okay," Xander nodded. "Be careful."

"I'll stay here with Illyria in case there's trouble," Angel volunteered.

"From Andrew?" Xander raised an eyebrow. "I know G-Man's getting on-."

The vampire sighed long-sufferingly. "From his employers, Xander," Angel explained.

"Oh right, 'course."

"Hey!" Faith interrupted, "No way I'm going shopping if there's a chance we might get visitors."

"We can't all be on standby all the time." Angel quickly responded. "If we burn ourselves out, then they've definitely won. We need to be smart about this, I promise you'll be on the next watch."

"Fine." Faith snorted before quickly storming out of the room.

* * *

Andrew swallowed as he watched the sombre-faced Englishman watching him. Try as he might, he couldn't escape the ropes securing him to the chair. Those books proclaiming they had the tricks of Houdini were all lies. Suddenly the Englishman turned away, Andrew exhaled in relief, the Watcher had been unable to withstand his stare of righteousness. 

He tensed as the Englishman turned back to him, holding a thick, hard-backed dictionary. He was surprised when the middle-aged man began leafing through the book. "After you killed Jonathan, tried to kill us all, we gave you another chance," the Council head shook his head. "We gave you a chance, do you know what we gave you a chance for?" Andrew opened his mouth to reply only to scream when his captor brought the spine of the book down across the bridge of his nose, breaking it. "Redemption."

Even as he tried to blink away tears and breathe through the blood filling his mouth and nose, the Englishman continued to talk, his tone as calm as if discussing the weather. "Do you know what held Buffy, Willow, Xander, and I together all those years?" The Watcher brought the book down hard on his right hand, his scream drowned out by the breaking of two knuckles. "Loyalty, another word you have little concept of."

"P..please," he gasped.

"Oh do be quiet Andrew," the middle-aged man reproved. "Stiff upper lip, that sort of thing. Or try this," Andrew's head snapped to one side when Giles drove the book into his face, knocking his head to one side and teeth flying. "Have some courage, that's another word you should look up."

"I'll talk," he begged, his words muffled by virtue of his head being slumped into his shoulders.

"Oh no," he screamed when the Englishman yanked his head up by his hair. "Not yet, I'm having too much fun. You're an outlet for my anger."

He gasped and struggled for air when the Watcher slammed the book into his throat. "Do you know what I see this as? Retribution." The Englishman sighed. "But if you want to talk. I suppose I'll listen." He quickly babbled out everything he could think of before falling silent. His eyes widened when the Watcher drew a gun. "Here's hoping god gives you something I never will. Forgiveness." He screamed as the Englishman pulled the trigger.

* * *

"Beta two to Beta?" 

Agent F snatched his radio off the desk the moment it crackled into life. "Beta, here. Proceed."

"The target has left the building."

"Alone?" Agent F queried.

"Accompanied by Harris."

Agent F took a breath. Xander had chosen his side, unfortunately it was the wrong one. "Take her when you can. Collateral damage is acceptable, but do not hurt Martin."

* * *

"You brought me to a fucking comic book store?" Xander winced at her screech. "I thought we were meant to be having fun? And will you tell those guys to stop freakin' staring?" even by her usual standards it was a little unnerving, the shop's employees had turned into zombies when she'd walked through the shop door. 

"Last time they saw a woman like you was on a Vallejo cover."

"Say what?" The words seemed to be English but as far as she was concerned, X was talking gibberish. Her eyes widened when Xander passed her a colourful calendar, its cover having a buxom, raven-haired amazon clad in the skimpiest of bikinis facing off against a snarling, shaggy-haired ape. "Nice," she approved. "But still, a comic book store?"

"I read comic books to relax," Xander explained. "And as my Slayer, you get to study with me. And part of your studies pawdan involves carrying the comics for me."

"Pawdan?"

"It's jedi for student, apprentice." Faith groaned. Oh yeah, taking Harris as her Watcher, big fuckin' mistake. Xander crouched by the shelf marked as 'Marvel' and began leafing through the magazines. "Oh great, they've got 'em all, 'Captain America', 'Daredevil', 'Hulk, 'Iron Man', 'Namor'" Faith felt her cool factor dropping by the foot as Xander piled comic after comic into her arms, "'Spidey', 'Silver Surfer', 'Wolverine', 'X-Men', oh, uh," she grunted as her Watcher dropped a heavy book into her arms, "Handbook to Marvel Universe', what every beginner needs."

"Xander," Faith groaned. Right now she was regretting not strangling him in her hotel room.

"Uh miss?"

Faith sighed as she turned to face her questioner, a pimply faced geek with inch thick glasses and drool rolling down his chin stood behind the counter. "Yeah, my friends and I were wondering…"

"What?"

"Uh," the youth coughed when elbowed in the ribs by one of his fellow comic book nerds. "We was wondering with all the leather," the boy's voice trailed off. She arched an impatient eyebrow. "Do you wear leather underwear too?"

"Hey!"

Faith waved a glaring Xander to silence. "I'll answer on one condition," Faith glanced at the stuff in her arms. "All this, for free."

"Deal!" snapped the fat one of the three nerds, kinda looked like Comic Book Guy off 'the Simpsons'. Faith smirked to herself, sometimes life did imitate art.

"I don't wear any." Faith grinned as the counter clerk fainted. "Yeah, still got it."

* * *

Xander gaped at his sultry companion as they exited the comic book store. "I can't believe you did that!" 

"Hey," Faith winked at him. "Saved ya eighty bucks didn't I?" The brunette bumped him with an undeniably shapely hip. "And weren't you kinda curious too?"

Xander coughed. "I already knew, remember?"

"A girl can change," Faith chuckled.

"Not that girl, not that much." Xander winced at the pain that flickered across the Bostonian's face. "Shit Faith, I didn't mean it -."

"It's cool X," Faith started walking at a pace that he couldn't keep up with. "Best be heading back, right?" she called after him. "See what G got from Wells?"

"Faith!" Xander picked up the pace, shaking his head as he ran. Damn it, she was so darn touchy. "Wait up!"

Suddenly the store front to his left exploded, showering him with glass and flinging him into the shop to the right, his head smashing into its gleaming front before flinging him to the ground.

* * *

"Why did he have to say that?" Faith muttered as she hurried through the mall. They'd been having a good time, a joke, and then suddenly he'd had to throw the past in her face. Her chest tightened as she realised Xander would never see her as 'one of his girls', he'd always be a little on guar -. 

She spun around at the sound of an explosion, her mouth dried as she saw Xander thrown across the mall. Her heart tightening still further, she dropped Xander's purchases and sprinted towards her Watcher.

Some instinct warned her to look up. Her eyes widened at the sight of three men carrying tranquiliser guns on the above walkway. Muscles straining, she spun out of the way of the first dart, caught and threw back the second, and then was hit by two shots from behind. "No," vision blurring she stepped towards Xander.

And then her legs gave way and she knew nothing.

* * *

Angel leapt to his feet at the sound of a gun cocking. Moving with an inhuman speed, he kicked the room's door open and charged in. As he entered he saw Andrew's head explode like an over-ripe melon, splattering the blood on the wall behind. "Giles!" Angel roared. "You shouldn't have done it!" 

"Why not," Giles' face was lined and haggard, showing his age and more. "He's the third man I've killed, and I've been sending youngsters to face death for years. More than that," Angel gulped instinctively at the almost demonic coldness that flickered in the Watcher's eyes, "I wanted to do it."

"But -."

"He didn't know anything much at all," Giles continued over him. "We've hit a dead end."

"You guys have bigger problems."


	19. Chapter 19

**FIC: A New World (19/21)**

Giles' eyes widened at the Versace suited green-skinned, red-horned demon stood in the room's doorway. His blood still racing from killing Andrew, his gun came up at and pointed at the intruder.

And was snatched away from him by Angel. "What the bloody hell are you doing you arse?" he growled.

"He's a friend," as usual the vampire was unmoved by his anger. Angel turned to the green demon. "I thought you said I wouldn't be seeing you again?" the Irish vampire demanded.

"You wouldn't Cupcake," the demon grimaced. "Except one of my girls is in trouble."

A rare look of confusion flickered across Angel's face before leaving his features in their usual unreadable mask. "Cordy's," Giles couldn't fail to be moved by the longing in the demon's voice, "gone Lorne. And so is Fred."

"I'm talking about Blackbird, Angelcakes."

"Blackbird," Giles glanced from the vampire to the demon. "Who's Blackbird?"

"He means," Angel briefly vamped out. "Faith."

* * *

Faith groaned as she awoke, her head thumping worse than after a two Tequila bottle hangover. "Son of a bitch," she muttered as she looked around her pitch-black surroundings. The only thing she was sure of was she was butt-ass naked and fastened spread-eagled by chains to two thick iron rods either side of her 

She tensed as a door opened and a light was turned on. It took her a few blinks to get used to the sudden light but when her vision cleared she looked around her prison, it was a featureless room of three walls, a sheet-covered table in front of her and behind that a glass wall that she figured was an one-way mirror. Fuck performing for an audience again. Finally, she turned her attention to her captor and found herself being sneeringly regarded by an immaculately-suited man in his early seventies. Despite his advanced years, the white-haired man had an air of bustling energy and a commanding aura. And although she'd never seen the man before, there was something vaguely familiar about him. "Ms. Martin," the man chuckled. "I'd like to say it was an honour, but then again I was brought up to tell the truth."

She recoiled when the man ran the back of his hand down her face, his dry touch making her belly flip flop. "Let me out of here right now," she snarled, swallowing the fear-filled bile rising in her throat. "And I won't rip your heart out."

"Ah yes," the Englishman, he had to be judging from that snooty accent, sniffed. "That arrogant Colonial attitude, typical of what I've come to expect from your sort." She thrashed around in her chains as the man approached, desperate to escape. "Be still!" the man's fist smashed into her mouth, snapping her head back.

Faith spat blood at the man. "Oh now I am so gonna rip your heart out," she blustered.

The man shook his head as he produced a monogrammed handkerchief and wiped her blood off his suit. "Ruined, typical of the street trash you are," the man sighed. "And to think that pillock Rupert thinks you should be held up as an example to the other Slayers. Typical of his spineless ways."

Faith's brow furrowed. Rupert? This bastard knew G? "Who the fuck are you?"

"Bloody slapper." Her captor tutted and shook his head. "You can't even ask a question without indulging in obscenities." Faith raised an eyebrow, guy kidnaps her, strips her naked, and complains about her language? How fucked up was that? "My name is," the man smirked at her, "Roger Whyndham-Pryce."

* * *

"Faith!" Giles started forward, his stomach hollowing in fear. "What's happened to her?" Oh god, his heart missed a beat as he remembered Xander was with the Bostonian Slayer. 

"Oh that's right," snapped the demon. "Demand answers after waving a gun in my face."

"Lorne," Angel growled.

"Fine, fine," the demon sat down uninvited opposite Andrew. His mouth widened as he noticed the corpse. Then he shrugged. "I'm not surprised, Andrew always had a bad aura. And I don't like people camper than me, cuts into my act's appeal."

"I want some answers!"

"My," Lorne shook his head. "You're not a happy camper. I really hope you don't sing, what with the vibes you're sending off."

"Lorne," Angel interjected. The vampire's voice was tight. "Please, for Faith?"

"Yes," Lorne nodded. "I had my escape route all planned. A club-owner friend of mine in Texas. So I headed there. First night there, I heard of you," the demon sighed. "Wes, Gunn."

"The court jester," Illyria appeared in the doorway. "Have you returned from running like a dog?"

"Angel?" Lorne looked mortally offended. "I don't have to take that from her!"

"Illyria, please," Angel on the other hand looked like he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. For once the demon had his sympathy. Dealing with these two oddities had to be an ordeal. "Lorne's here to help."

"He has come to add his arm to our struggle?" Illyria sniffed. "Little help he was against the Black Thorn."

Lorne's eyes hardened. "Listen goddess," the immaculately-tailored demon snapped. "I was out fighting demons while you were still planning your invasion of the body snatchers-."

"Will you two bloody shut up!" Giles roared, worry about his children causing his temper to snap. "We don't have time for this bollocks!"

Illyria's eyes narrowed. "Be warned insect-."

Suddenly Angel's friend let out an ungodly scream. In a second both he and Angel were on the floor holding their heads. "As I was saying," Lorne continued, his tone mild. "Faith's in big trouble."

* * *

Faith stared at the man, her stomach constricting and twisting in knots. "Wes' dad?" she gaped. Oh fuck, she was in a world of trouble. 

"The same," the aging man nodded. "Do you understand what you cost me?"

"Me?" Faith was momentarily confused then she understood. "Look I'm sorry about what I did to Wes," she said, "but we reached an underst-," she grunted when the man punched her in the stomach, his hand now gloved in brass knuckles.

"I would have been the next Council head but for you." The Watcher's eyes blazed. "But for you," spittle flew out of her captor's mouth, spraying her, "your rebellion made my family a laughing stock!"

"Glad to be of service," she muttered before raising her voice. "Look I've learnt my lesson, why the fuck aren't you helping us hunt -," her voice trailed off as it all fell into place. "You crazy bastard! This isn't just personal is it?" She pulled at her chains desperate to be at the man behind all her pain, but the rods securing her failed to loosen. "You're the son of a bitch who killed Wood!"

"Robin Wood." The Watcher appeared unfazed by her anger. "A good man waylaid by a common harlot. It became apparent to me that Rupert, Summers, and yourself needed eliminating from the Council. Giles' disregard for our age-old customs and traditions was disgusting, the freedom he gave you girls." The Englishman shook his head, a faintly disdainful expression on his lined face. "Never before has a Watcher been so ill-educated as Harris -."

* * *

"Do tell," Xander muttered as he slumped into a chair by the doorway of the increasingly crowded hotel room, having been rescued from the scene by Dawn and her group, drawn to the explosion by curiosity. His head, his entire body hurt, but nothing as much as his heart. Faith. Another name to add to those he'd failed to protect. 

The green, custom-dressed demon gave him a long stare. He stared back impassively, having long lost the capacity to be shocked. "As I was saying," the demon continued. "A friend I'd help find his destiny gave me a job in his club. Two days ago, these kids came in. They were off duty soldiers, rowdy but no real harm. Until they began singing." The demon shuddered, turning a waxy grey. "They're torturing her, I don't know why or where, but she's in a real bad way."

Xander felt sick to his stomach. "How do we find out?"

Xander glanced at the vampire, Angel having beaten him to the question. "That's where Long John Silver comes in," Lorne nodded towards him. "I was worried when I got here and he wasn't here, but he's the one."

"The one?" Xander queried.

"Her anchor, her friend, maybe her saviour," the demon shrugged. "I don't know, but the only face I saw in my image that wasn't enjoying it, was you."

"How can I help?" Xander looked at Angel, the vampire's confused expression probably mirrored on his own face. Why him, why not Deadboy?

"Sing."

"Sorry?" Xander blinked. Of all the answers he might of expected that wasn't one of them. "You said sing?"

"Lorne reads people when they sing, see their futures," Angel explained. "Please Xander."

"Okay," he took a breath and began singing the Beatles' 'Help'.

The pitying look the demon shot him chilled him to the bone. Even as he opened his mouth to query it, the green-skinned monster spoke. "A small ranch outside Yuma."

"Right," Angel nodded thankfully at the demon. "We better move fast, we'll plan on the route. Giles?"

"Agreed, anything bar weapons and essentials we leave, we're moving now-."

Finally Xander came to a decision and stood. "I'm not going." He couldn't do this any more, he couldn't try and fail again, watch someone die because he wasn't good enough.

* * *

"Xan is worth ten of you!" 

She screamed as the man crashed his brass knuckles into her nose, shattering the bone and engulfing her face in blood. "Ah yes, another one of your many paramours," the Englishman chuckled. "And another of your victims. I wonder which experience was most pleasurable?"

"Fuck," Faith spat a wad of blood and bile on the floor. "Are ya gonna talk me to death?"

"Oh no dear," the Watcher smirked. "I have far bigger plans for you."

"Oh yeah," Faith glared at her attacker. "And what the hell are they?"

"All in good time my dear," the man reached beneath the sheet covering the table, "tell me, do you recognise this?"

* * *

There was a moment of shocked silence following Xander's pronouncement, during which the young man strode out of the room. Giles shook his head and started towards the door. "I'll-." 

"Let me," Angel volunteered. Before the Watcher had chance to argue he was out of the room and striding after the American. "What do you mean, you're not going?" Angel grabbed the one-eyed man's arm and spun him to face him. "What are you playing at?"

"I failed her Angel," Xander snarled. "What's the point? Tara, Anya, Buffy, Willow, now Faith." The young man shook his head. "I'm out, I'm useless, you don't need me, you've got two Slayers, Connor, and Illyria. What use is an one eyed former carpenter?"

"Oh yeah," Angel forced his temper under control. Lashing out wouldn't work, some calculated baiting on the other hand… "I seem to remember a young boy who thought he could make a difference. Had the balls to walk up to the meanest vampire around, stick a cross in his face, and tell him what's what for the sake of a girl he loved. Still," he looked down meaningfully, "maybe they've shrivelled."

Something flickered in the young man's eye. "That's really obvious you know?"

Angel shrugged. "Did it work?"

The California native smiled grimly. "It worked." Xander's smile turned to a beaming grin. "Angelcakes."

Angel groaned. "Shut up, Harris."

* * *

Roger enjoyed the naked Slayer's confusion. Even with the blood pouring down her face, she was a beauty and no mistake. Under other circumstances he'd be more than interested in paying for a shag with the little slag. "It's the Slayer's Scythe!" the perplexed yank looked at him. "But that blew up with the keep?" Her soulful eyes widened. "Wells!" 

"Yes," he nodded. "Andrew had the occasional use, he was easy to influence, appeal to his over-inflated sense of self-importance and he'd do anything."

"The others have him now," the raven-haired slapper blustered. "they'll be here soon."

"I doubt that my dear," he replied. "Seeing as he doesn't even know who I am, much less where the place is."

"Fine," Faith's eyes flared at him. "So why you got the shiny thing?"

"Yes." He reached into his pocket and pressed on the remote control there. The Slayer gasped when a light went on illuminating the area behind the window. The busty beauty's eyes shot towards him, filling with horror. "Yes," he smiled towards the shackled girls sat there, "I see you recognise your fellow Slayers, the girls who idolise you-."

"This is between us! Let them go, you bastard!"

"I don't think so," after a quick glance to ensure the iron rods were holding her in place he smiled at the raging brunette. "These young ladies are integral to my plans. More to the point, they are redeemable, unlike yourself." He sat on the desk opposite his captive, close enough to fully appreciate her allure, but far enough away to preclude her attempting a headbutt or a bite. "You see, when Kendra Zabuto died, the Slayer spirit passed to you. You are in fact the true Slayer. And because of that," he smiled, oh this was a master plan. "I have two mages, Ethan Rayne and Amy Madison, waiting to direct any pain you suffer into the Scythe, and should any of these young ladies displease me, they will have your pain redirected from the weapon into them, as many times as I deem necessary. A salutary lesson don't you think?" He didn't wait for an answer, pulling the sheet off the table with a flourish, revealing the terrifying collection of tools beneath – a variety of whips, pliers, a blow-torch, a claw-hammer, a cattle prod, some knives, and a set of electrodes.

The girl had paled, but to her credit remained defiant. "So is that it?" she sneered. "That how you get off, torturing girls? You sick bastard!"

"Hardly my dear," he sniffed. "Although I admit it will be entertaining watching you suffer. Unlike yourself I do not consider myself an expert of torture. So instead," he looked behind him at the sound of the door opening, "I acquired one."

The brunette gasped at the newcomers. "Riley! What the hell are you doing here!"

"Mr. Giles refused his request to have a Slayer assigned to his UN team, and a few months ago his wife was killed in an operation by demons. As a result he blamed the Council and since then he's been working with me, when this is over, he'll be my head of operations, they'll be no half-measures with demons under our watch." He turned to the giggling slender brunette accompanying the soldier. "This is Drusilla." He smiled at the Slayer's fearful gasp, she'd obviously heard of her. "Even amongst vampires she's considered quite the sadist. And Angelus' childe, destroying his protégée, there's a certain irony there." He turned to the ashen grey Slayer, she wasn't willing to beg. Yet. "Through Agent Finn I've received the next generation of behaviour modification chip. If Drusilla takes things too far." The demon wailed as he pressed the button, falling to her knees, her head in her hands. "She'll soon regret it. Now, dear," he smiled beatifically at the Slayer. "Feel free to scream."


	20. Chapter 20

**FIC: A New World (20?)**

"AHHHHH!" Faith screamed, her tortured voice faltering to a rasp. Her head dropped limply onto her chest, dried tears clinging to her face, her nostrils filling with the smell of charred flesh.

Her flesh.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been here, her body being shredded by the psychotic demon. At first she'd stayed quiet, gritting her teeth against the vampire's torture. Then she'd screamed abuse at the monster. Soon she was sure she'd beg, not that it would do any good.

She swallowed at the feel of the cold palm stroking her cheek. The vampire suddenly giggled in her high-pitched trill. "Pretty Raven, hurting all over. Not so pretty any more." She recoiled as far as her chains would allow her when the demon leaned into her, her shackles jangling, but the demon grabbed her hair, yanking her head towards her and whispering in her ear. "Does your soul sing to you, deaire? It sings to me, of evil, pain, and misery. Such a pretty tune."

When she didn't answer, the demon released her grip and walked over to the table. "I think someone needs to learn to answer when spoken to," the demon giggled. "Lessons for naughty girls are so much fun."

* * *

"This it?" Xander peered through the darkness, to the looming Mexican-style hacienda. 

"It's the building." Angel confirmed, his eyes fixed on the building. "There's three guards by the door. Illyria and I will go deal with them."

"But-," Xander's voice trailed off when he realised the vampire and the goddess had already left the van. "I hate it when he does that."

"At least you're not related to him," Connor muttered.

* * *

Angel dropped the last of the guards to the ground, his neck broken, worry twisting his stomach. He looked towards the building's wooden-pannelled door. His first inclination was to charge right through the door, but it wouldn't do any Faith for him to get killed before he got to her. "Strength in numbers," he muttered before turning to Illyria. "I'll go get the others. Stay here." 

"And if anyone comes?"

His answer came instantly. "Kill them." They'd murdered innocents, his friends, the woman he loved, they deserved no mercy.

* * *

Roger Whyndham-Pryce glanced up at the sound of an alarm going off. Putting down his glass of finely-matured Irish Whiskey, he turned from the delightful sight of the Slayer's screaming demise to his grey-faced companion. "It appears we have unwelcome visitors," he sighed theatrically, "do me the favour of dealing with them." 

Agent F nodded. "Yes sir. Alive or dead, sir?"

He glanced at the CCTV footage of the intruders before answering. He recognised two of the group as Slayers, but he had more than enough of them. Finally he came to a decision. "Kill them all."

* * *

Xander hung back as they strode through the palatial hacienda, allowing the super-powered ones to combat any threat they ran into while he kept a watchful eye on Dawn. The aforementioned girl shot him a worried look. "Do you think Faith's gonna be alright?" 

"She'll be fine," he lied even as his guts twisted in fear. He couldn't lose another person.

Suddenly a figure leapt out of a room to Angel's left. Xander barely had time to blink before the Irish vampire snapped out a sideways elbow, smashing the side of the would-be attacker's face. Before the assailant had time to react, Angel had swept his legs from under him. The moment the interloper hit the floor, Angel had hold of his head, and twisted, tearing it off its shoulders.

Xander shuddered. The only time he'd seen the Irish vampire that focused, ruthless, was as Angelus. It was unsettling to see the soulled version could be just as ruthless.

"Giles," Angel's worried voice broke through the deathly silence that followed his destruction of the attacker. "You might want to see this."

"A decapitated man?" Giles sniffed. "I think not."

"Come here," the vampire urged, "I think I know who did this."

"Good lord," Giles hurried forward and crouched beside the body. "Who-, bloody hell!" the Englishman exploded. "It's a robot!"

"I know," Angel nodded. "We were attacked earlier in the year by a group of androids. Their leader impersonated Wes' dad. The inside knowledge he had, knowing Andrew, it had to be him behind the androids, using them as a test run for this."

"Oh bollocks!" Giles exploded. "That bastard! I'll rip his bloody heart out!"

Xander exchanged a worried glance with Dawn before starting forward. "Don't."

Xander stopped dead at the voice in his head, allowing an oblivious Dawn to hurry on. "W…Willow," he whispered, tears forming in his eye. "But you're d..d-."

"Dead!" Willow's scream caused his head to pound. "Don't you think I've noticed it, mister? I've come back to help. Faith needs you. See that door to your right?" he nodded. "You need to go down there." He stepped towards the doorway. "I love you, Xander."

"Love you too, Willow," he whispered before disappearing through the doorway and down the darkened stairwell beyond.

* * *

Giles stood, barely able to control his enraged shaking. That bastard, he seethed, not even Travers in his arrogance had betrayed the Slayers like this. But Pryce, he'd rip his lungs out. "Where's Xander?" 

He glanced towards the pale-faced former key. "I beg your pardon, Dawn?"

"Xander, he's gone!"

A quick glance around confirmed the last remaining Summers was correct. Giles shook his head, stupid bugger, Xander had probably done one of his trademark charges into danger. Would the bloody boy ever learn to wait? He exchanged a worried glance with Angel. Coming to the unplatable decision that they didn't have time to search for him, he spoke. "Vi, Rona, come with me," he instructed. "We'll go after Pryce. Dawn, go with Angel and the others, see if you can find Faith and the other Slayers."

"But -."

"Dawn," he fixed the teen with his sternest gaze. "We don't have time to look for him in this bloody maze. Xander can look after himself."

God, he hoped he was right.

* * *

Agent F sighed regretfully as he saw the figure hurrying through the darkened corridor, heading to his position hidden in the shadows. It had come to this. He stepped out of the shadows. "Hello, Xander." 

"R…Riley," the younger man screeched to a halt, almost falling over his feet, eye filling with shock. "What are you doing here?"

"I think you know."

There was a long silence. Xander shook his head. "But why?"

"Why?" Riley's jaw tightened, the facial gesture tugging painfully on the left side of his face, pulling at the patchwork of interwined scars there. "Why? Four months ago my unit ran into a family of Qwar-Laks. They butchered my unit, tore my face apart, but most importantly, they took my Sam!" He took a second, forcing his temper under control. Angry men lost fights. "I asked Giles two times to station a Slayer with my unit but he refused, said Slayers had to be under Council control. If he hadn't, my Sam might still be alive!"

"I'm sorry," Xander shook his head. "But this is wrong, you know that."

"And I'm sorry you came here," he started towards the intruder. "Because now I'm going to have to kill you."

* * *

"Sorry Riley," Xander whispered as he pulled the revolver he'd purloined from one of the outside guards out of the back of his belt, aimed and fired. His old friend's eyes widened in shock as he aimed and fired. 

His ears filled with the reverbrations of the rounds exploding. With the distance between him and his target, and lack of cover it was impossible to miss, even allowing for his visual disability. His bullets tore through the soldier, the first smashing into his left shoulder, the next two ripping through his heart.

"Ahh!" Riley stared at him, a look of dawning surprise on the Iwoan's face as he fell onto his back, blood spilling out on the paved ground.

Xander stared down sadly at his former friend before stepping over the body and carrying on. Seeing a door at the end of the corridor, he increased his pace.

Xander gasped as he entered the chamber, stomach twisting in terror. Doubling-up, he dry-heaved for a few second before looking up at the naked woman fastened spread-eagled to two poles in the centre of the room.

The once-beautiful Slayer had been torn apart. Her legs and arms looked to be broken, twisted to hideous angles, both her shoulders doubtless dislocated. Several of her fingernails had been ripped out, viscera leaking from her mangled hands, and her heavily-brutalised body was covered with a variety of burns, bruises, and cuts, some made by knives and some by whips. Both her eyes looked to have been bludgeoned shut, several of her teeth littered the floor torn out by pilers, and her nose was shattered, spread across her face.

Swallowing, he hurried forward, grabbing a pair of blood-stained bolt-cutters off the table beside the Slayer, he shuddered at the thought of how they'd been bloodied, and began working his way through the chains holding the brunette. The brunette started and whimpered at his approach. Bile rose in his throat at the sound, Faith whimpering it was a crime against nature. "It's okay, Faith," he kept his voice as steady as he could. "It's Xander."

"Z..zandess," his name was unrecognisable through the Slayer's tortured mouth.

"Yeah," he caught the Slayer as she slumped forward. "Is me," he agreed. "It's gonna be okay," he lied. He couldn't see how Faith could ever be okay again.

"Get out," the Slayer slurred. "Danger."

"Let me worry about that." He started to lift the Slayer into his arms. "We won't be here -."

* * *

"Oh dear," Roger tutted as he saw the group split up, watching their progress on the computer screens. "It would appear the game's up. Bugger." He turned to his companions. "Miss Madison, Mr. Rayne. It would appear we're about to have guests."

* * *

"They're down here," Angel picked up the pace. "I can smell Slayers." Angel's foot slammed into the door, sending it flying. Stepping into the room beyond, he stopped and swallowed at the sight of the several dozen girls who could only be Slayers. Shaking it off, he turned to his son. "Connor, you and the others -," his voice trailed off when he realised his ashen-paled progeny was staring at the far end of the room. "What's up -," his voice broke again as he followed his child's gaze. "N…no," he started forward, stomach hollowing at the sight of Xander holding his broken protégée in his arms. "What have they done?" he hissed, his rage growing even as his demon laughingly taunted him. 

The hairs prickled on the back of his neck as he sensed a presence he'd not felt in years. "N..no," he whispered again as a willowy figure stepped out behind the youth. Terror growing, he shouted. "XANDER!" He punched the glass only to curse when the pane failed to shatter. It had to be mystically enhanced. Turning, he darted out of the room, knowing even as he ran he'd be too late.

* * *

"Hello handsome Sunnydale boy," his blood chilled at the unmistakable voice. "One eye, but still you see." After a gulp, he laid the Slayer on the ground and turned to face the insane vampiress some ten feet away, she'd been lurking in the shadows the whole time. "I'll have to see if you see better without any!" the demon exploded into laughter, her giggles echoing around him. 

"You did this?" he was surprised that anger rather than fear was the over-riding emotion. "Then you'll die."

"No," the demon's eyes flashed yellow. "You will." A heartbeat later and the vampire was beside him, her fist smashing into his jaw. Blood filling his mouth, he flew across the room, crashing into the wall and sliding down to the ground. What he heard next scared him more than anything so far.

"Such a pretty boy," the vampiress giggled. "Been alone since my William took up with the Slayer. Not going to be alone anymore."

* * *

Faith groaned as she forced her head up, seeing the blurred figure of Drusilla stalking the crumpled Xander. "N…no," she stuttered through mangled lips. She wanted to help, but her body was on fire, all she could do was watch. She owed Xander that, he deserved witnessing someone watch his death. 

"Don't you dare! You owe him! Help Xander!"


	21. Chapter 21

**FIC: A New World (21/21)**

Remembering the gun he'd used against Riley, Xander pulled the weapon out of his jacket. In a second Dru was on him, twisting his wrist back until it snapped. Xander screamed even as the bone shattered, his yells accompanied by the vampire's insane giggling. "Little boys," he shuddered when Dru ran her ice cold fingers down his face. "Shouldn't play with guns. Get's them hurt it does, all gunpowder, and owws." The demon's face dropped. "William's Slay-."

The vampire shrieked as she fell forward, her knee catching him in the face as she fell forward. "Get off my Watcher, bitch!" Xander gaped at the battered sight that greeted him. Faith, but how?

* * *

"B?" Faith whispered before giggling hysterically. Wicked, not only was she dying, she was hearing voices in her head. Going nuts. Again. Or being haunted by B. On balance, she'd rather go nuts. 

"That's right!" the blonde's increasingly strident voice continued. Faith winced, couldn't B tone it down a little, she was busy dying. "Now get up!"

"Want to," she replied, her eyes fixed on Xander, Drusilla stood over him. "Can't," she mumbled, blood bubbling out of her mouth, staining the ground.

"There is no such word as can't!" Faith rolled her eyes. Wicked, B was giving her shit from beyond the grave. "You owe him! Get up!"

She gasped as a rush of energy slammed into her, washing the pain away. "Oh god," she looked up at Xander's scream. Mouth hardening, she leapt up and charged across the room, slamming a foot into the small of the demon's back, knocking her away from her Watcher. "Get off my Watcher, bitch!"

* * *

Drusilla spun around to face the Slayer, eyes widening in disbelief. How could Blackbird be standing after the games they'd played? Her amazement grew when she saw William's Slayer hovering over Blackbird's shoulder, the smirk on her face enraging Drusilla. "Kill you," she hissed before driving her left heel back into One-Eyed Boy's face, knocking him flat on his back. 

"You want some?" the battered brunette tilted her head to one side before raising a hand and beckoning her on, lovely blood dripping from her torn fingers. "Let's see how good you do without the chains!"

* * *

Giles stopped as he sensed something probing the magic in the air around him. Lips curling into a snarl, he reached into his jacket and pulled out the .38 there. "Mr. Giles-." 

"Do shut up," he gruffly interrupted before stepping around the corner. Recognising the two people flanking the door at the end of the corridor, he nodded. "Ethan, Amy."

Ethan's eyes widened at his gun. "Ripp-."

The boom of his gun firing interrupted his former dark arts accomplice, the bullet slamming into his head, the doorway behind splattered with blood and brains. Smiling slightly at the open-mouthed girl stood looking at the corpse beside her, he likewise shot her, her body slumping against and sliding down the wall. "Mr. Giles!"

Again, he ignored Vi's trembling voice. "They were dark arts mages. Don't like, stay here." He nodded to himself when the two girls stayed where they were. Good, it made things easier; they didn't need to see what he had planned, he'd have shared Pryce's fate with Rayne and Madison, but they were too risky to try such tricks with. Best for the quick kill.

Kicking the door open, he stepped into the darkened room beyond. Sensing a presence to his left, he leapt backwards out of the chamber, firing his gun at the silhouette as he did so. His grunt as he hit the ground was accompanied by a pained bellow from within the room. Grinning to himself, he climbed to his feet. Hearing the sound of his Slayer escort rushing to him, he turned his head and shook it. "No, I'm fine," he ordered. "Stay here."

Walking back into the room, he turned the light on and smirked at the sight that greeted him. "Hello Roger."

"Bringing a gun to a sword fight," the older Watcher wheezed, face greying from the pain coming from the wound in his side as he sprawled on the floor, a crimson puddle around him. "Hardly fair."

"Fair?" Giles raised an eyebrow as he kicked the rapier away from the Englishman's flailing hand. "You want to talk to me about fair?"

He kicked the door shut to ward the Slayers from seeing what he was about to do. "Rup-."

"Shut up." The man grunted when Giles kicked him full in the face, sending teeth flying. Looking around, he grabbed a hold of the Watcher's arms, and, ignoring his captive's weak struggles, dragged him over to the office's gleaming desk. Pulling out a pair of handcuffs, he looped the restraints around a desk leg and fastened the man's wrists to the handcuffs. Stepping back, he pulled out a silver drinking flask and a gold lighter crafted in the shape of a guitar, and placed them both on the desk. "Christmas," he smiled sadly. "Christmas, always a time for family-."

"Rupert, you have to-."

The man's protests dissolved into coughs when Giles kicked him in the ribs. "Quiet, you've talked and done more than enough recently." After taking a second to compose himself, he continued. "Yes, that was the last time I saw Buffy and Willow. Before," he glanced down at the body at his feet. "You killed them. Buffy bought me," he lifted the silver flask, "this and filled it with a rather foul brandy. Of course, I never told her what a terrible brand she bought, I wouldn't dream of hurting her feelings." He unfastened the top of the silver flask. "Of course it has its uses." The Watcher gasped when he poured the brandy all over him. "And Willow, she bought me this lighter, a lighter with a rather fine spell on it." He flicked it on, a small blue light flaring instantly. "It will light instantly, never need refilling, and will set aflame even the normally inflammable." He looked down at the man at his feet. "Rather fitting don't you think?"

By now Roger's eyes were saucer-sized. "M..mercy."

"Mercy?" Giles crouched over the man. "Where was your mercy when you were hunting my friends and I? Where was it when you blew up a building filled with dozens of innocents? Where was it when you killed my daughters?" Giles shook his head before setting the man on fire and stepping back, the man's instantaneous screams filling his ears and the stench of burning flesh filling his nostrils. For a second, Giles stared down at the writhing man. He felt nothing, no satisfaction or joy that the man who'd killed Buffy and Willow was dying horribly, only a relief that he'd never get a chance to hurt Dawn or Xander. "Save me a seat in hell," he said before striding out, eyes cold. He just hoped Xander and the others had found Faith in time.

* * *

The vampire screamed before leaping at her, Faith pirouetted away from her opponent's rush with all the grace of a dancer, her left heel smashing into the demon's lower back, knocking the monster to the ground. Spinning around, she saw the demon had already risen and was charging her. 

Placing herself between her crumpled Watcher and the on-rushing monster, Faith shot out a side heel kick, the blow cannoning into the demon's face, snapping its head back. If possible, the demon's eyes hardened still further before cackling manically and leaping at her again.

"Fuck," Faith muttered as she dropped into a leg sweep, taking the demon's legs from under her. "A little bit of originality isn't too much to ask is it?"

"AHH!" Faith screamed as the demon rose and attacked, her claws slashing up to rip a furrow through her left cheek. Dazed, she fell on her back. The demon loomed over her, the smile on her face spine-chilling.

Bringing her knees up into her chest, Faith slammed her heels into the demon's stomach, knocking her back. Taking advantage of the demon's distress, she leapt to her feet only to have to duck beneath a right hook, the monster's punch pummelling the torture chamber's stale air. Straightening, she swayed away from a follow-up crescent kick, grabbed the attacking foot as it came down and threw the vampire into the ceiling.

The vampire returned to the ground with a screaming thud. Deciding it was time to take the offence, Faith rushed forward and made to kick the demon in the ribs.

Drusilla's hand flashed out, grabbing her foot and yanking. Faith shrieked as she hit the hard ground shoulder-first. Shoving aside the pain that briefly flared through her, she rolled to her feet, snatching a scalpel off the ground as she did so. "Time to end this."

Eyes a burning yellow, the demon charged her again. This time, Faith didn't meet its attack head-on, instead sidestepping the vampire and sweeping her legs from under her. The moment the vampire hit the ground, Faith was on her, knee in her back, she snatched at the demon's lustrous black hair and yanked her head back with her free hand before decapitating her with the scalpel.

Her job done, Faith rose. Turning her head, she grinned at her Watcher, tears forming in her eyes as she felt the pain returning to her ravaged body. "Thanks," she took a rattling breath as she staggered, "for forgiving me, Harris." Behind her, she heard the room's door crash open, and sensed her idol entering the room. Dots appearing before her eyes, Faith pitched forward.

"NOOO!"

* * *

Yuma Health Centre 

"And those are the reports I ordered?" the secretary nodded. "Excellent, now how about -."

"WE NEED HELP NOW!"

Dr. Nick Foley's head snapped towards the doorway, his mouth dropping open at the sight that greeted him.

A huge, hulking man with what looked like smoke wafting off him stood there, holding what looked like to be a broken doll wrapped in a blanket. The hospital entrance way was becoming increasingly crowded, the powerfully-built man being surrounded by a slack-jawed, dazed-looking one-eyed man, an imperious looking blue-haired beauty, a grim faced older man, and several dozen teen girls. "What is going on here?" he demanded even as he rushed forward, gesturing to a passing orderly to bring a trolley.

He gasped when the man eased his passenger onto the offered trolley. He'd been a trauma surgeon for almost three decades, but he'd never seen anything to match this. The young woman, because that's what she was, once at least, looked like she'd been tortured to death and then revived and had the process started again. Fighting back the urge to vomit, he looked around. "I want my team here, now!" he shouted before turning to the patient's companions. "What happened?"

The older man of the group put a shaking hand in his jacket, brought out a card, and passed it to him. "UN Dangerous Groups Division," Foley was surprised to note the man was English, "she was one of my agents, and captured by a cult. We just got her out. Please ring that number to ascertain my story."

Blinking in disbelief at the man's words, he shoved the card in his pocket with a mutter. "Sure," seeing his team arrive, he shoved the gurney down the corridor.

"Save her," he glanced back at the one-eyed man, noting the greyness of the man's face and the way he was cradling his purpling, swelling wrist. "Please."

"We'll do our best," he promised before turning his attention back to the paling nurse beside him. "Get his wrist seen to. Now, let's go!"

* * *

"And Miss. Martin's condition?" 

Sister Reeves looked up from writing her notes up. "Not good," she admitted. She'd never seen anything quite like it in her ten years as a nurse. She imagined that the young woman had once been very pretty, beautiful even. No longer. "Her injuries are extensive. Six ribs are broken, both lungs punctured, she has a fractured skull and an inoperable blood clot. She's suffered a broken spine, two ruptured discs, and a damaged kidney. In addition both her shoulders were dislocated, her elbows, and knees have all been smashed with a blunt instrument as have her nose and jaw, and she appeared to have been repeatedly cut, whipped, and electrocuted all over her body."

"It's a wonder she's still alive," Foley muttered. Sister Reeves nodded, they'd worked feverishly to keep the girl alive, over six hours in surgery. Every time they'd repaired one injury, they'd discovered another. Whoever had done this had to be utterly insane.

"Doctor," Sister Reeves turned to see the patient's big brother and employer stood behind her, both men staring intensely at her boss. She was suddenly very glad not to be on the receiving end of that stare. "How is she?"

Doctor's Foley's Adam's Apple did a nervous dance before he replied. "She's not good Mr. Giles," the surgeon carefully announced. "It's a wonder she's even alive. We're far from certain she will recover." Which was a very diplomatic way of saying no chance in hell.

"Whatever it costs doctor," the Englishman pronounced. "However long it takes."

"If she wakes up," the two men glared at the surgeon. The surgeon's Adam's Apple did its dance again. "When she wakes up," the trauma specialist hurriedly corrected. "There's likely to be extensive emotional scarring from such a torrid incident."

"She's strong," the big man glanced over his shoulder and through the private room's window, "and we'll be there for her."

* * *

"So, with the death of his Uncle Ben, Spiderman learnt that with great power comes great responsibility," Xander looked up at his companion. "But I guess you knew that already." 

He'd made a promise to Faith to teach her about comics, to be her Watcher, to be her friend. And he would be, he'd be here for her as long as she needed him. Tears filled his eyes as he stared at the small figure in the hospital bed, surrounded by sterile machines, half a dozen tubes sticking out of her.

For a long time, the only sound accompanying his sobs was the beeping of the life support system.

**The End**


End file.
